Groove, Interrupted
by Seyi
Summary: UPDATED Kuzco gets home from his summer vacation to find that he's engaged to a woman just as rude, spoiled and sarcastic as he is. Not REALLY a romance story; I can't see Kuzco and romance. New chapter...!
1. Default Chapter

Rating: G. It's Disney, after all.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters mentioned, except for Katya and Kia, belong to Walt Disney, even though he's dead.  
  
Emperor Kuzco stood at the front of his Macedonian summer home, watching with a twinge of regret as it was locked and carefully boarded up by the last of his soldiers. The first leaves had began to fall, and the streams and rivers in the area were becoming chilly, the first signs that summer had ended for good- the first signs that his vacation was ending, and it was time for him to return to the palace.  
  
He moaned inwardly. The very THOUGHT of returning to that gloomy pit was depressing. He was so intent on his thoughts that he didn't even see the large figure of his friend, Pacha, appear beside him.  
  
"Emperor- Ku-"  
  
"Argh!" Kuzco screamed, whirling around. When he saw that it was only Pacha, he sucked in his breath in relief. "Jeez, Pacha! Someone as big as you should make at least a decent amount of noise when they walk!"  
  
Pacha, not in the least offended, merely laughed and gave the younger man a slap on the back that nearly sent him sprawling. "I'm going to miss having you around."  
  
"And I'm going to miss having a spine." Kuzco glared up at his friend in mock anger, rubbing his back, then threw his arms around him in a giant bear hug. "Man, I don't know why your family won't come and live in the palace, like I asked you to," he complained. "There's nothing to do in this dump."  
  
"Which is why you stayed for an entire summer and half the fall, I'm assuming."  
  
Kuzco rolled his eyes, but persisted. "I mean it. Come and I'll make you one of my advisors- you're my only link to a conscience, y' know. Plus, I can't see you botching the job any more than Yzma did." Their eyes followed the form of an elegant white Persian cat, who was sitting on a windowsill, glaring out. When she saw Kuzco looking at her, she arched her back and hissed. He shuddered.  
  
Pacha laughed good-naturedly. "Your highness, I'm flattered, especially by the Yzma reference, but I've got to refuse. Harvest is coming, and I have to help the others gather the crops. Plus- I can't see myself living anywhere else. I know that you, more than anyone, must understand that."  
  
Kuzco looked at him craftily, playing his last-and best card. "But you'll separate me from Ku." He cast his best beseeching look over at Pacha's wife, Chicha, who had their four-month old child, christened Kuzco ("Ku" for short) after the emperor himself, tied to her hip with a colorful swath of fabric. "My first and only godchild! You wouldn't be THAT cruel."  
  
Pacha's broad, kindhearted face took on a worried look for a moment; then he caught the gleam in Kuzco's eye and laughed again. "You're good."  
  
Kuzco rolled his eyes. "There's no persuading you, I see. But at least come back to the palace with me for a couple of weeks. Bring everyone. It'll be nice to have you there when we're not being chased, falling to our deaths on waterfalls, or turning into animals."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"C'mon, man. It'll be a blast. I'll have you home in time for harvest; you have my word."  
  
Pacha considered for a moment before shrugging. "Oh...why not? If its okay with Chicha, that is...."  
  
"BOOM, baby!"  
  
Kuzco was already tearing down the hill that led up to his house, grabbing Ku from his surprised mother in the process, whooping at the top of his lungs. He yelled out orders to all his guards for extra provisions to be made for a family of five, and then leaped into the waterfall, holding Ku over his head, who was screaming with laughter.  
  
Hitting the pool below with a memorable splash, they sent an icy wave of water over the grass and onto Chicha, who had followed them, screaming when she saw him jump, then demanding that he put her child down, scolding profusely. Pacha closed his eyes, then opened them in time to see his wife- (grabbing the emperor's ear! the EMPEROR!!!) pulling him out of the water, rescuing her baby.  
  
"No touchie!" he squalled, trying to wiggle out of her grasp, rubbing his ear. Pacha's two other children joined in the chaos, yanking on their mother's legs till all had taken the plunge, Kuzco laughing like a maniac the entire time. Pacha shook his head and headed up the hill to pack. Kuzco certainly had changed.  
  
Kuzco's troupe began their travel the very next day, Pacha at the head of the group. Since it was the emperor's caravan, they were going with the best of luxuries- rich food delivered by runners from local roadside diners, heavy tents lined with velvet and rich embroidery, llamas and camels for everyone to ride on, even down to an old, tame donkey to carry Ku.  
  
The entire trip was a long, leisurely affair, the travelers stopping to eat, drink, hunt, and just play. Pacha and Kuzco took turns telling ghost stories to the little ones, consoling them when they screamed at night, burning food over the fire, stomping out the fires, and generally just having a fantastic, idyllic time in the wild.  
  
They camped beneath the spray of the famous waterfall that Kuzco and Pacha had nearly killed themselves on, and Kuzco showed them the panther's den where he'd nearly been eaten. Pacha took the entire group- soldiers and all- to the diner where Kuzco, as a llama, had managed to sneak in without detection- and with the family's help, got him to taste the pillbug special, and then cleaned up the mess he made hurling it up afterwards. It was nearly a week before they reached the palace.  
  
"I'm baaaaccckkkk!" Kuzco threw open the door to his throne room with a flourish, heading for his inner chambers, all the while noticing with satisfaction that that all traces of Yzma's little coup had been completely erased from the rooms. Stripping off his dusty outer robe and wadding it in a ball, he headed for the baths, dreaming of a good wash, shampoo, and massage. Lord knew he needed it.  
  
"Your highness!" Kuzco was startled when a short, round man in stiff white linen robes burst out of an adjacent room, waving his arms, bowing his way over. "Emperor Kuzco! Welcome back! I trust your Excellency had a pleasant vacation..."  
  
"That I did, Kuta, that I did. Thanks for asking." Kuzco tossed the robe to a nearby guard, who caught it by instinct. "Get rid of that for me, would ya, pal?" he quickened his steps, trying to outrun Kuta, but the smaller man still managed to keep up. "Your highness," he said, "There are matters pressing here in the palace and...."  
  
"Can't I take a bath first? I think things are GROWING on my skin. Plus, there is NO WAY I'm gonna break out this week. Not when I'm entertaining."  
  
"I understand that fully, your grace. Still, there are certain matters which really cannot be delayed, though your Excellency's admirable attentions to hygiene is certainly not to be regarded lightly....."  
  
Kuta's voice faded into nothingness as Kuzco focused on getting to the baths quicker, pulling one sandal off after the other, pitching them into a courtyard fountain, and yanking off his inner tunic, leaving only a white loincloth. Boy, this guy talks a lot, Kuzco thought, still vaguely hearing Kuta's droning. A bath's going to feel good, as soon as I can get rid of this sucker. He reached the bathing room and cut him off at the door with a "thanks, man, talk to you later," and a well-timed slam of the door. "Oh yeah," he remembered as soon as he shut the door, looking down. "Kuta!" He yelled out the door again.  
  
"Your Majesty?"  
  
"Get rid of this for me, will ya?" Kuzco held out the handle of a delicate gold leash, a scowling white Persian cat on the end. "Tell the stableman to make her a bed in the barn or something, will you? Oh, and keep an eye on her. She's a dangerous cat. I suggest solitary confinement."  
  
Kuta dumbfoundedly took the leash. "You have a CAT, your highness?"  
  
Yzma could take no more. "I'm no CAT, you fool!" she spit. "I'll get you, Kuzco, if it's the last thing I....."  
  
"Ll-l-l-l-lady Yzma?" The look on Kuta's face made Kuzco sure he'd shocked at least ten years off the man's life.  
  
"The one and only," Kuzco replied. "A living example of what happens to people who try to overthrow MOI. Ta! Oh, and thanks a lot, Kuta." He closed the door again.  
  
Kuzco strolled over to a mirror, admiring his reflection, as he always did. Over the summer, since he'd been in a village where he actually had to walk and climb rocks and stairs and other things of that nature without the constant aid of servants, he'd added quite a bit of muscle to his skinny frame, and was very tan. His HAIR, though-  
  
"Oh, MAN," he groaned. "I look more like a llama than I did when I was a llama! Barber!!"  
  
He threw himself in the pool, headfirst, then surfaced at the top of the scented water, floating on his back. The barber arrived in due time, and soon Kuzco's hair was back in the same neat, shiny coif he'd left the palace with. Yanking on a clean white undertunic, he ordered a guard to summon Kuta. "Might as well hear what he has to say." He threw himself on a plush settee, waiting.  
  
The door creaked open, and instead of Kuta, a young woman walked in, dressed in a simple buttercream-colored robe, several other robes draped over one arm. Her dark hair, bound in a simple braid, was hidden under a striped head scarf, and her round face was stretched into a warm smile. "Emperor," she said, and bowed formally.  
  
"Anya!" Kuzco sat up straight, giving his royal dresser a warm smile. "How are you?"  
  
"Fine. How was your vacation, Kuzco?"  
  
He sat back and relaxed. "Fantastic. I was livin' large the whole summer."  
  
"That's good to hear. Get up, now- I've got a whole new line of robes I've been dying to try on you."  
  
Kuzco obeyed meekly, allowing Anya to measure his arms, legs, and torso. He'd known her since he was born. As the daughter of his late father's chief valet, she had grown up in the palace. Her mother had been Kuzco's nurse, and the two had practically been raised together.  
  
Nine years older than him, she'd been babysitting him since he was a year old and had become his formal dresser when he turned sixteen. Her Egyptian- style clothing (her father was of Egyptian descent) and sense of style appealed to him, as did her penchant for honesty. She wasn't afraid to say what she was thinking at any time, and he kept her around in respect for their late fathers.  
  
"Ouch!" he complained as she hit a snarl in his hair. "Careful, woman!"  
  
"You JUST got it cut. How on earth is it tangled already?"  
  
"Don't ask ME. Just do your job."  
  
She rolled her eyes, and with a stern "hold still!" she continued. Kuzco actually felt bad for a minute, but was distracted when she draped his new robes around him, covering his body with heavily embroidered fabric in blue, gold, and white. He preened in front of the mirror, prancing up and down, adjusting the heavy gold belt at his waist. "I'm beautiful!"  
  
Anya rolled her eyes again, but was inwardly pleased at her handiwork. "You are truly the vainest human being I know," she said.  
  
"AND the best looking! Admit it."  
  
Anya laughed and headed for the door, gathering all the robes, combs and lotions she'd used, gliding gracefully across the floor. "I'll call Kuta for you." She paused at the door. "By the way- you've gained some bulk this summer. Keep it up."  
  
"Thanks, lady."  
  
Kuta came in, looking nervous, wringing his hands. "Your highness," he fawned, bowing his way to Kuzco's side.  
  
Good lord, the man is going to tip over of he bows one more time. "Kuta! My main right-side man! What's up?"  
  
"Well, sire, do you recall that before your....altercation with the Lady Yzma, you were.....in the process of selecting a bride?"  
  
"Yeah, and you had the nerve to bring those frights to my throne room...has the floor been washed, by the way? Cuz, that Cher-hair chick's feet looked a little iffy..............tell me, should I wear a smaller crown with this, or just go with the gold comb?"  
  
Looking all the more nervous, Kuta stammered out a reply. "Well....your grace...I mean, your Excellency....Sire, you are to be married!"  
  
Is this guy an idiot? What is he....? "Yes, Kuta, I AM aware of that. When I FINALLY choose a wife, probably in another couple of years, I'll....." a sudden look of understanding dawned over his face. "Ooooohhhhhh. I get it. Look, if you wanted an early invite to my wedding, all you had to do was ASK. You can come, I guess- I'll find something for you to do- you CAN pour wine, right?" He readjusted his crown.  
  
"Your highness," Kuta stuttered, "Nothing would be more felicitous than for me to attend the wedding of your Excellency, in any capacity- however...."  
  
"Out with it, Kuta! This outfit is too good to waste in HERE talking to you ALL day, much as I'd like to. Just say what you have to say! Can't be worse than me turning into a llama!"  
  
"You're Majesty," Kuta spluttered, "You ARE to be married! Next Saturday! By royal decree, if you have not selected a bride by your eighteenth birthday, one is selected for you by the court for political advantages only. In your absence, the court selected a young woman for you to marry. You will wed next week. She's a young woman from Greece, the Grecian king's youngest daughter. Your marriage will mean great wealth and land added to your kingdom."  
  
Having finished his impressive speech, Kuta wiped his brow. "Your Highness? Emperor Kuzco!"  
  
He had fainted flat on the ground. 


	2. My life is over

Disclaimer: You know the deal. I own nothing. Do not sue.  
  
Rating: G for now, but PG in later chapters if you understand Greek.  
  
"MY LIFE IS OVER!!!!"  
  
Kuzco's hysterical screams reverberated through the throne room, the sound waves ricocheting off the wall and going to every corner of the palace. Pacha, who was walking with Chicha and Ku in the garden below, froze as he heard the sound, then barely managed to run a catch the flailing form of a falling man from the upper-story window.  
  
"Sir! Are you all right?" He gasped, as Chicha quickly dampened the end of her scarf with water from the baby's bottle and wiped the man's red, sweaty face with it.  
  
The portly gentleman, dressed in the clothing of the palace workers, gave Pacha a weak grin. "Actually, I'm glad," he said. "He took it a lot better than I expected....ungh." Then he passed out.  
  
Pacha left the man with his wife, picked up the baby, and headed for the palace. Upon entering the throne room, he looked around and saw his friend, curled on the floor in a fetal position. "Um, Emperor?" he asked tentatively. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"MY LIFE IS OVER!!!"  
  
Pacha stuck his fingers in his ears, trying to regain his hearing. "Um, I got that part, Emperor. What's the matter?"  
  
Kuzco sat up, his eyes watering. "They're gonna make me get married! Next Saturday!"  
  
Pacha was confused. "I didn't know you were engaged."  
  
"I'm NOT! Jeez, Tiny, don't you get it?" In between sobs and alternate miniature breakdowns, Kuzco related the whole story to Pacha. "And so, here I am," he finished with a dramatic sniff.  
  
Pacha, who had been listening sympathetically, patted him on the back. "Can't you get out of it somehow?"  
  
"Not if I want to hold on to my position as emperor. The freaks they call my father's advisors want me married and producing brats as soon as possible. I didn't make a choice as to a bride- not that I COULD have, with the hideous selection they brought to the palace- so they did it for me."  
  
"THAT'S how you went about finding a wife?" Pacha was clearly shocked. "Didn't you even get to know them first?"  
  
"Why would I do that? They line up the girls, I see which one goes best with a tie and tails, I pick, I marry, I reproduce, everyone's happy. That's how it's been for AGES."  
  
"What about love? Because, in the case of me and Chicha..." Kuzco rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, sulking. "Look. Are you here to make me vomit with your little small-town Cinderella story, or are you here to help me out? 'Cause, if you're here to reminisce, you can follow Kuta down there." He nodded at the open window.  
  
"Kuzcoooo," Pacha said warningly.  
  
"Okay. Okay, ookkkaay," Kuzco said, his face taking on a slightly more pensive expression. "I'm sorry. But IT'S NOT FAIR!!"  
  
Pacha sighed. He wished he could help, but the decree, especially one created so many years ago, had to stand. "I don't know, Emperor. Unless you change the degree..."  
  
"I won't be given full imperial powers till I'm married and have produced a heir."  
  
"...you're pretty much stuck."  
  
Both men were completely silent for a couple of minutes. Kuzco was the first to break the silence.  
  
"So I'm getting married."  
  
"You're getting married."  
  
"Be my best man?"  
  
"You bet."  
  
By the next day, Kuzco had adjusted to the idea of having to get married, but he certainly wasn't going to be QUIET about it.  
  
"Why can't I just marry you???" Kuzco was whining profusely as Anya measured him for his wedding robes, his most elaborate ones yet.  
  
"ExCUSE me?" Anya asked.  
  
"I mean, why not? We get along, I've known you forever, my father liked you...plus, you know my clothing style, and when I get married, my wife will be taking care of that, not you."  
  
Anya smirked. "Thanks, but no thanks, emperor."  
  
"'Thanks, but no thanks?'" Kuzco quoted incredulously. "Do you know how many women would DIE to get a proposal from me?"  
  
"Look, we wouldn't work together, Kuzco. First of all, I'm twenty-seven- you're eighteen. Not happening."  
  
"I'm almost nineteen, and besides, age is just a number. Plus, I prefer you to some stranger."  
  
Anya ignored him and continued counting off on her fingers. "Secondly, we would NOT get along. Thirdly, the you-know-what would hit the fan in court, since I'm of no political advantage to you. Fourthly, I don't WANT to marry you- I've still got a choice, you know. Fifthly-"  
  
"All right, all right, I GET it!" said Kuzco irritably. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't promised Mother I would spare you if you ever mouthed off to me." Grumpy now, he relaxed his shoulders, only to have Anya give him a sharp crack across the shoulders with her tape measure. "Hold still!" she snapped. "This robe has to be PERFECT."  
  
Kuzco obeyed, still seething. "She's probably a witch," he muttered.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"A witch. Maybe she cast a spell over my court in order to get me married. Or maybe she plans to take over my kingdom."  
  
Anya sighed.  
  
"WHAT? It could be true! Remember Cleopatra? If it happened to Caesar, it could happen to me!"  
  
"You sound completely irrational. And childish."  
  
"Um hmm. Maybe we'll share a cell when my beloved "wife" arrives. If she doesn't kill us all first, that is."  
  
Anya threw her hands up in the air in defeat. "PLEASE hold still now. I've got to pin this together in the back." She draped fabric over his body and began pinning. "  
  
"Still sure you don't want to marry me?" he gave her a beseeching look.  
  
"Positive."  
  
Their little conversation was interrupted when a tall, broad chested guy waltzed in with a tray and a squirrel on his shoulder, which was carrying a covered goblet.  
  
"Your lunch, Emperor Kuzco. Hey there," he said to Anya, who nodded and leaned over casually to whisper in Kuzco's ear. "Didn't he, like, try to kill you?"  
  
"That was mostly Yzma," Kuzco said through his teeth. "No offense to him, but it would have never occurred to Kronk that he could actually take someone out. Plus, he makes a mean pot roast." Anya nodded and straightened up as Kronk approached the sewing table.  
  
"Thanks, Kronk, dude. Put it over there." Kuzco indicated a nearby table and waved them out. Kronk headed for the door and paused. "Oh, and congratulations on the uh,...nuptials and all."  
  
At the word 'nuptials,' Kuzco moaned loudly and sunk to the floor in a pool of white linen, then yelped and leaped up as Anya's pins dug into his behind.  
  
"Is he okay?" Kronk asked. Kuzco was now hopping up and down, pulling the pins out and screaming obscenities in Portuguese.  
  
Anya looked at him sideways. "Yeah," she said dryly. "He's just excited about the big day. He'll be fine, trust me."  
  
Like? Dislike? Please, Review. flames are welcome; they never cease to amuse me. 


	3. Alexandria's arrival

Disclaimer: I do not own..know what? Screw this. If you don't get it by now, you never will.  
  
Rating: PG for mild language and thematic elements.  
  
Kuzco peeked through the deep-purple tapestry cover of his formal receiving room's window, at a slow, large camel caravan approaching the palace. A huge, heavily embroidered sac-like enclosure, decorated with elegant gauze curtains of every imaginable color sat on top of a snow-white camel, flanked by dozens of guards on every side. Their gleaming armor flashed in the sun, and the steady drumming of their sandals on the hard-packed dirt echoed through the hills.  
  
Presents had been arriving for many days, now, from the bride's family. After his advisors had sent the dowry, runners had been sent on ahead to announce their princesses' impending arrival. There were Grecian spices, strange, exotic dried-out foods, and "stunning" works of art that he'd promptly chucked into Yzma's old lab.  
  
"I guess that's her," Pacha said, from behind him.  
  
"Yeah," replied Kuzco, glumly, not in the least bit startled by his friend's sudden appearance. He turned around, sitting comfortably in the window seat.  
  
"Look....Pacha, buddy. Tell anyone about this conversation, and you're Yzma's new cat food, but I'm a little..nervous about this whole marriage thing, if you know what I mean."  
  
Pacha gave him a good-natured smile, trying to cheer him up. "I'm married, and I didn't turn out so bad," he said. "Don't worry about the ceremony. Just drink a lot, repeat what the priests tell you to, look happy, and it'll be over in a jiffy."  
  
"Humph. You're not an axe murderer or anything, if ya chose to look at it THAT way," Kuzco said sarcastically. "It not the CEREMONY I'm worried about. It's what comes after, if you know what I mean....."  
  
Pacha suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Oh. THAT. Um...well, you DO know how it works, right?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"Well...oh, man, I wish your father were alive right now," he muttered under his breath. "Well. Just take it slow. Most...everything comes naturally, you know? Don't rush her."  
  
Kuzco nodded. "Anything else?"  
  
"Well," Pacha looked around and dropped his voice to a whisper, his face burning. "It'll probably be her...first time, you know? Don't scare her- it'll be hard to control yourself, especially when you're so young, but it's possible. You can hurt her without knowing it." He lowered his voice a little more. "There might even be a little....this is disgusting, prepare yourself.....blood at first, but it's normal..."  
  
Kuzco stared at Pacha, his face growing more horrified with every sentence. "Man, WHAT are you TALKing about!?" he said.  
  
Pacha reeled back. "What were YOU talking about? Because I thought you were talking about..." He made a slight gesture with his hips, one that Kuzco picked up on immediately.  
  
"Eeewww! No! Me discuss THAT? With YOU?!! I do KNOW how it works, okay- I was taken to a brothel for my sixteenth birthday. All princes are. I just wanted some tips on getting her to like me! Oh, SICK!!!"  
  
Pacha rolled his eyes, face still flaming, as Kuzco dry-heaved over the side of his out the window. "I was ONLY trying to help."  
  
"Then keep your mind out of the gutter!"  
  
"My mind wasn't in the gutter!"  
  
"You're right. I think the 'privy' would be a more appropriate place."  
  
A huge argument certainly would have erupted had Kuta not interfered, barging into Kuzco's receiving room.  
  
"Your highness!"  
  
Kuzco nearly tumbled off of the windowsill. "WHAT!?" he said, the adrenaline rush from nearly falling making blood drum in his ears.  
  
"The princess is ready to dismount."  
  
"So what do I have to do with that?"  
  
Kuta nervously shifted his feet. "Your highness, tradition demands that you be there to welcome your bride."  
  
Kuzco opened his mouth, a sarcastic comment just dying to come out, but he caught Pacha's eye, threw his new mantle over his linen-robed shoulders, and headed out without comment. Pacha, who was acting as his valet for the week, went to see to his wardrobe for dinner.  
  
Kuzco approached the elegant cocoon, noting the tense look on his advisors' faces when he walked up to it and reached for the curtain. They think I'm going to throw a tantrum or say something nasty, he thought, smirking. Losers. Might as well spare the poor boys some heart trouble, he thought, pulling back the curtain and extending his hand, a charming smile plastered on his face.  
  
"Welcome, princess," he said to the warm, scented darkness inside. He could hear each and every one of his advisors let out gusty breaths of relief. He felt a small, warm hand studded with rings fall in his, and a young woman emerged onto the velvet steps. He felt a small, warm hand studded with rings fall in his, and a girl emerged onto the velvet steps.  
  
She was tall, taller than him, in fact, and rather curvy, yet slender, with pale, pale ivory skin, dark hair gathered up into a knot, save for a thick strand of hair that fell across her forehead, and large, green-flecked amber eyes. Her eyebrows were thick and dramatic, startlingly dark against her skin, and she had full, red lips now curved into a slightly mocking smirk. She couldn't have been older than seventeen, eighteen being a charitable guess.  
  
"Took you long enough to get here," she snapped in a high, slightly nasal tone, taking his hand and dismounting. In her other hand was a thin, gold goblet studded heavily with crystals. She tossed her head back, took a sip from it and promptly spit it out, narrowly missing Kuzco's sandal.  
  
"Yick!" she said. "It's positively tepid. Honey, refresh this," she said, handing the cup to a surprised guard. "Vintage 200 B.C. And make it quick!"  
  
When he didn't move, she gave him an exasperated look. "Hasn't your train of thought left the station yet? Hurry up! C'mon!" she snapped her fingers and prodded the guard on with one tip of a pointed shoe.  
  
Satisfied that the guard was on his way, she turned to her husband-to-be. "I hope you're not as slow as your help," she said to Kuzco.  
  
Kuzco took offense. "Who are you calling slow? Me?"  
  
"Who am I calling 'slow?' good question, I don't know yet. What's your name?"  
  
Kuzco's mouth dropped open. She waited for a minute, then looked at him and smiled. "Take your time honey." She rearranged the folds of her delicate white gown and headed for the intricately carved double doors, yelling through the one that was open. "Hey, robot-suit! Where's my drink!"  
  
She turned around to Kuzco, who was still shell-shocked. "So, are you going to show me around, or wha..." She suddenly looked up at the sun, squinting irritably as she shielded her eyes with one jeweled hand.  
  
"Good lord!!!" she cried. "Am I outside!!??"  
  
Should I keep going? Please review! 


	4. The wedding

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
  
Rating: PG, I guess..  
  
Kuzco sat in his ornately carved dining-room chair, glaring across the pristine wood table at Alexandria, his named fiancé, who was seated at the foot of the table, stirring her Brazilian B.C version of a martini with an olive-studded toothpick. Kuzco had been miserable all day. Alexandria was rude, demanding, and incredibly sarcastic in every way.  
  
The day had begun with the couple breakfasting in the east dining room, in silence. Kuzco ate pheasant and poached eggs. Alexandria dined on thinly sliced lemon- (in a Long Island Iced Tea, that is), along with a dish of lightly seasoned quail eggs that probably cost more than the dining room, which she sent back for various reasons at least four times during the forty-minute meal. After breakfast the day had begun with a tour of the gardens-  
  
"Red roses are SO first century," she snarked. "Good lord!" she cried, looking up. "Am I outside AGAIN??"  
  
Then came a viewing of the art galleries-  
  
"An optical nightmare. My head is spinning!"  
  
Kuzco muttered something under his breath.  
  
"Booze has NOTHING to do with it!"  
  
Thirdly, she was introduced to Pacha and his family-  
  
"Honey," (low, after they had left) you should really watch out for these pheasants. They're a cult, you know....like servants..or...or the homeless!"  
  
AND, the icing on the cake, the opening of her new bedchambers she'd move in after the wedding. As was the custom, the enormous sitting room, powder room and bedroom was directly accessible from a door in Kuzco's room. Alexandria looked around critically.  
  
"I suppose this'll do for my shoes. Thanks, honey. So where's the actual bedroom?"  
  
Kuzco stormed off in a fit, using the God-given excuse that he had to dress for luncheon. Pacha joined him inside his rooms for lunch, as he refused to go and eat with Alexandria, listening to his whining.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
"I can't TAKE this anymore, Pacha!!"  
  
Pacha ducked the third buttered roll hurled in his direction as the emperor became more and more emphatic with his movements. Kronk, who was standing behind him, deftly caught the buttered disk and placed it on a hot plate, chopping it up in use for his afternoon turkey stuffing. Kuzco continued to wail, pausing at intermissions long enough to have food dropped into his mouth by the various servants who surrounded his eating couch.  
  
"I was the NICEST guy in the world- Anya, WHY are you coughing? Didja choke or something? - and they saddled me with a girl like THAT!!??"  
  
"Unbelievable," Anya said, trying unsuccessfully to hide her laughter behind another cough.  
  
"She's-"Kuzco paused to chew. "She's rude, demanding, unfeeling-"  
  
"In other words, a perfect match for you," muttered Anya, who was rearranging Kuzco's wardrobe. Pacha gave her a sideways look of agreement.  
  
"I beg your PARDON???"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
Kuzco shot a lethal glare into her direction and continued his tirade. "She is unappreciative, immature, selfish-"  
  
"Before you exhaust your vocabulary," Anya said dryly, "why don't you consider the Princess' feelings? She's been displaced from her home, and probably given less choice in this marriage then you have. I'd probably act a lot nastier in her situation."  
  
Pacha nodded in agreement. "She's also been brought up as privileged as you are- it's expected for her to be a little spoiled. Is there any way you can, you, know....make her feel a little more at home in the palace?"  
  
Kuzco had stopped chewing and leaned forward, eyes alight with interest. "Wow...I never thought of that," he said, softly, his irritated look turning to one of concern. "Let's see...if I make her feel more welcome, she'll probably be happier, you guys will have a break 'cause you won't have to listen to me whine, Kuta won't feel so guilty about the whole mess..."  
  
"Yes. Yes..." Pacha and Anya leaned forward, eager to see an end to all his self-absorbed moaning and groaning.  
  
".....and NO ONE WILL BE THINKING OF ME!! Nice try!!" Kuzco threw himself back on the couch, a scowl fixed on his face. Pacha and Anya exchanged 'here we go again' looks, and Kuzco continued his rant.  
  
"There HAS to be another way to get out of this. Plus, there is no way on the face of the earth that Alexandria doesn't want to marry me. I mean, come ON." He gestured at his reflection in the mirror.  
  
Pacha and Anya had nothing to say to THAT. Instead, Anya began to lay out Kuzco's clothing for the morning wedding, and Pacha moved closer to him. "Emperor Kuzco," he said. "I'm sure everything will work out. We can figure this out."  
  
"Yeah, like I'm going to take YOU seriously. You said those very same words when we were dangled over a fast-moving waterfall while tied to a boulder, 'member?"  
  
"So what does that have to do with now?"  
  
"See, your 'figuring out,' always seems to involve nearly drowning, falling from an ungodly height or getting a really nasty, sloppy kiss. Me no likee!" He jumped up from his seat and began to inspect the garments Anya had just laid out.  
  
"For the umpteenth time, IT WASN'T A KISS- and Kuzco, if you want this marriage to work, you've got to give some too. Did you ever consider just getting to know her?"  
  
Kuzco looked up from the basin where he was washing food from his face and hands. "I must've gotten water in my ear," he said, raising one eyebrow. "What did you say?"  
  
Pacha rolled his eyes. "Never mind."  
  
Kuzco dried his face on a towel and flung it into a corner. "I know what I'll do!" he said. "I just won't marry her."  
  
Pacha lifted his eyes heavenward once more. "I thought we already went over that," he said. "You have to marry her."  
  
"Nope! Those advisors can't tell ME what to do! "  
  
"But, Emperor...."  
  
"I can't hear you! Buh-bye!" Kuzco blocked his ears and began to dance around the room. "I'm not going to marry her. I'm not going to marry her! I'm not......"  
  
************************************  
  
"....going to marry her." Kuzco stood glumly at the head of the wedding processional next to Pacha, who stood by his side as his best man. He was flanked by guards on either side, ordered to catch him if he bolted and carry him kicking and screaming to the alter if necessary.  
  
"Sshh," Pacha said, comfortingly. He patted his friend on the back, and they watched as Alexandra moved slowly up the greenery-carpeted aisle of the temple, flanked by her many attendants, all brought in from Greece for the occasion.  
  
The normally dark, dreary, building had been brightened with spicy-smelling flowers and garlands, under Anya's direction, and each guest had a tiny goblet of fine wine as well as a plate of delicate nut pastries, thanks to Kronk.  
  
Alexandria herself looked stunning, in a long toga-style dress with a train, a blinding white sateen trimmed with a delicate gold-leaf pattern. Kuzco was dressed very much the same, save for the fact that his robes were much shorter, as was the fashion, and wore a heavy gold crown on his head.  
  
She reached the front in seconds, thanks to Kuzco- ("Jeez! Speed the walk up, willya!?" he snapped at the orchestra, who was playing a slow, solemn Grecian aria) and took her place at his side, chin raised. "Well," she said, glancing around, "I see this day was a total waste of makeup."  
  
Obviously, she was still mad about his standing her up for lunch the day before.  
  
"As long as we're on the subject of cosmetics," answered Kuzco, "Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?"  
  
Alexandra looked down her long nose at him. "And which dwarf are you? Because, whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed."  
  
"Are we ready to begin?" the priest asked in a loud whisper, startling the pair out of their bickering.  
  
Kuzco looked around at the assembled guests, as if hoping for escape, but all he saw was a huge wall of shoulder-to-shoulder advisors and pages, ready to take over his position as emperor at the slightest sign of resistance. He stepped forward, groaned inwardly, took Alexandria's hand after wrapping it in a handkerchief, ("I don't CARE how childish that looks!") glared at her one more time, then looked at the priest and opened his mouth.  
  
"Bring it on."  
  
In this chapter, we've seen the true extent of the brattiness of both Kuzco and Alexandria. Will update soon- more to come on the newly wedded couple!! Review Please!!!!! 


	5. Marital bliss yeah, right Part one

Disclaimer: Disney owns all. I own nothing.  
  
Rating: Back to G.  
  
Kuzco sat rigidly at the head of the breakfast table, looking across at Alexandria, neither one wanting to break the silence and wish the other the traditional "good morning." I won't break, thought Kuzco, ignoring the pleading looks that Kuta was sending him across the room. I WON'T. His wife was stirring a strong-smelling drink with a spoon, seemingly unaware of the fact that he had entered the room.  
  
The past night's wedding festivities were spent in relative gloom for the wedded couple despite the glamour and expense put in to them, peppered with sarcastic quips from both the bride and groom. The climax of the evening had come when the newly wedded couple traditionally fed each other slices of the wedding cake.  
  
Frosting was STILL oozing out of Kuzco's ear, and the royal physician had had to work late into the night to remove a candy rose from Alexandria's left nostril.  
  
Any scruples the couple may have had that could have resulted in a truce were officially shot. This was WAR, and since Pacha had left with his family directly after the wedding, there was no one to check his conscience. Kuzco looked at her critically, eyes narrowed. Her pretty face was bland, her hair perfectly arranged. She sipped her drink, then sprinkled salt on her egg before taking a dainty bite. The silence in the room was deafening.  
  
Kuzco stared at her, watching her cut the egg and play with the shards. She looked up and narrowed her eyes. "Honey, what are you staring at?"  
  
Kuzco kept his face perfectly straight. "I'm trying to imagine you with a personality," he replied, deadpan.  
  
Alexandria dabbed her lips with a napkin. "Honey," she said, leaning forward, "do I have the facial expression of someone who cares? No? Splendid." She turned back to her tea and brandy.  
  
Furious, Kuzco opened his mouth to give a retort, but was interrupted when Kronk practically danced into the room, a cheese and egg soufflé in his mitt-covered hands. "Clay oven, indecent temperatures, slammed the oven door twice, and this baby STILL didn't fall!"  
  
"That's great, Kronk," Kuzco didn't even have the heart to tease him that morning. "By the way, have you met Alexandria yet?"  
  
At the mention of her name, Alexandria looked up and dropped her teacup, startled, looking straight at Kronk, and screamed. "Good LORD! Kuzco, they're two of you!"  
  
Kronk jumped. "Another Kuzco? Where!?" He nearly dropped the soufflé as he looked around frantically.  
  
Why me? Kuzco thought, despairingly. Why??? Why???!!! "There is JUST ONE OF ME!!!" He yelled, startling the pair out of their hallucinations. "Dumb and dumber, meet drunk and delusional," he added with a flourish.  
  
"Charmed," Kronk said with a warm smile, bowing slightly. "So. Do you go by D&D, or just by-"  
  
Who was the genius behind the engineering of THIS guy's mind? "Ah, Kronk," Kuzco said with a slight roll of his eyes, "why don't you serve the food?"  
  
"Oh. yeah." Kronk took a spatula and lifted portions of the steaming-hot dish on their plates, and the two began to eat. Kuta, ever the peacemaker, lunged forward in an attempt to procure conversation.  
  
"How did your majesties sleep last night?" he asked, as if he wasn't the one who had had to call the royal physician after two in the morning.  
  
"Mmph," they both said.  
  
"You know, your majesty," mentioned Kuta turning to Alexandria, "there are plenty of activities to be done here in the palace today. As you know, you ARE our new empress, and on behalf of the entire staff, we welcome your august imperial regal statuesque person into our midst...."  
  
WHY does his voice drone like that? Kuzco wondered as Kuta's voice slowly morphed into a high-pitched robotic whine. He cocked his head, inspecting the man's flapping jowls and gums, which wiggled emphatically as he spoke. Good grief, the man hasn't a tooth left in the back of his mouth! And WHEN is he going to run out of adjectives? Alexandria was staring at him as well, her pretty face wrinkled into an expression of extreme concentration.  
  
"....and there is much to be admired in our majesty Emperor Kuzco's choice of such a beautiful, elegant, well-bred lady..."  
  
"Kata," Alexandria broke in, still looking puzzled.  
  
"Actually, my lady- that is your highness, your grace, it's Kuta."  
  
"I beg pardon, Kupa. Anyway, honey, I didn't understand a WORD of what you just said."  
  
Kuzco, to his horror, nearly smiled. The chick was evil, but she was so dense, it was funny sometimes.  
  
Kuta tried to stammer out some kind of reply, Alexandria staring at him in profound astonishment. "Maybe you shouldn't talk, " she said sincerely, in a gentle tone. "Just stand there and be decorative. Like....children, you know?" She turned to Kronk. "Did you get what he said, honey?"  
  
"Who, milady?"  
  
"Kupa."  
  
"Who's Kupa?"  
  
"He's right there!"  
  
"Where?"  
  
"There!"  
  
"Oh, behind Kuta?"  
  
"Who's Kuta, honey?"  
  
Kuzco quickly got up and exited from the room before he broke into laughter. (He didn't succeed, if the look on his wife's face when he shut the door was any indication. She didn't much like being laughed at.) Apparently, he was surrounded by idiots. He strolled into the garden, enjoying the warm sun on his face, then pulled off his robe and lay there, soaking in the rays.  
  
All of a sudden, just as he was getting to sleep, he felt a sharp prod in his lower ribs. "Ow!" he squalled, jumping up.  
  
Alexandria was standing there, her nose buried in the petals of a tall iris, her head protected by a large white sunshade held up by three attendants. Her eyes were wide and innocent. "Honey, what's the matter? Did a bee sting you?"  
  
"Hmph," said Kuzco, glaring down at her pointed shoes. He watched Alexandria glide away, towards the greenhouses (did they have greenhouses back then??) and enter with her attendants, the guards shutting the door behind her.  
  
Kuzco leapt to his feet, intending to follow her and give her a piece of his mind- then he had a better idea. He ran to the nearest gong and hit it, ringing for the gardener. The little man showed up almost instantly, standing with his chest puffed out.  
  
"Loza!"  
  
"Yes, your majesty?"  
  
"Water the greenhouses- now. They seem a little dry."  
  
"Yes, your majesty."  
  
Kuzco watched as the little man climbed up to the greenhouse roof and beat out a rapid tattoo on the gong that stood there. Immediately, twenty servants showed up, each bearing an enormous pail of water, liberally laced with llama fertilizer- on their shoulders.  
  
"WATER!!" Loza bellowed.  
  
The men instantly turned over their pails and basins, pouring them on the roof. They leaked through the stippled holes in the roof, drenching the plants inside.  
  
The shriek that emitted from the greenhouse made all the men topple off.  
  
Kuzco turned to leave, a satisfied smirk on his face.  
  
He could still hear feminine screams after he had entered the palace.  
  
************************************  
  
It was lunchtime before Kuzco saw Alexandria again, this time dressed in a new, dry robe. Her hair, still slightly wet, was pulled back from her face, which was slightly flushed. Kuta, no doubt, had ordered the small, intimate table for two in the anterchamber of the palace, complete with an elegant black-tie service. In no time, they were served with the first course, a delicate onion soup.  
  
Alexandria had made no reference to the drenching she'd gotten that morning- in fact, she'd greeted Kuzco (although she was looking at a statue of him) when she got to the table.  
  
Kuzco stared at her suspiciously, but when she simply dug into her soup and sipped her margarita, he relaxed. Maybe she didn't know it was him who had ordered the drenching- although his howls of laughter when she'd passed him, dripping, in the hall should have made that pretty clear. Then again, it WAS Alexandria. Kuzco relaxed and took a sip of his food.  
  
"Needs more salt," he muttered. Looking around for a servant and seeing none, due to Kuta's orders to 'leave them alone!' he stood up and reached across the table for the salt himself. He grabbed the clay dish, and sat down- on the floor, hard.  
  
"OW!" he complained, rubbing his backside. Then he felt something icy and wet fall on his face. He licked his lips. Margarita.  
  
Narrowing his eyes, he hoisted himself up and glared at his wife, but she was taking a dainty bite of bread and watching the movements of a nearby butterfly.  
  
Kuzco chose not to say anything and put his nose up in the air, then grabbed his napkin and wiped the liquid off his face. He dropped the linen square in his lap and took a huge bite out of his bread- then nearly chipped his tooth on the rock inside it.  
  
Alexandria was tipping her bowl back now, getting the last drops of soup into her spoon. Her face was as unreadable as a nun's.  
  
Kuzco picked up his spoon, determined to ignore her, and took a mouthful of soup- then spit it out instantly, as it was full of SOAP. He picked up his napkin again, this time wiping his tongue with it. Still attempting to look dignified, he picked up his drinking goblet and took a sip, trying to get the disgusting flavor out of his mouth.  
  
This time, he spit the liquid clean across the room, then ran and dunked his head in the pool of a nearby fountain. The drink was laced with cayenne pepper!  
  
Kuzco felt his way blindly back to the table, groping for his napkin and rubbing his face dry with it. He looked up. Alexandria was sipping from her glass, looking at him over the rim, clearly trying to hide a smirk. To his disgust, he felt a sudden surge of admiration- she would have had to manage all this in the two or three seconds he'd spent on the floor. A true professional. He gave her a single, grudging nod.  
  
Alexandria pulled a small jewel-encrusted mirror out of her robes, her eyes brimming with laughter, then handed it to him. He took it and looked at his reflection, and his jaw nearly hit the table.  
  
Long, heavy black streaks covered his face and neck. He stuck out his tongue. It was covered as well. He glanced at the napkin he'd been using all that time. What he'd thought was embroidery was actually a dark ink- and it had smeared off on his face and tongue.  
  
Shaking, Kuzco took a deep, calming breath, then counted to ten and opened his mouth.  
  
Alexandria managed to leave the table and take cover before Kuzco's scream shattered every window in the room.  
  
"MY FACE!!! MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!!!!!!"  
  
Please review!! More on Kuzco and Alexandria's "marital bliss" to come! Will update soon! 


	6. Marital bliss yeah, right part two: And ...

Disclaimer: I still do not own this.

Rating: G for this chapter.

"Honey?"

Kuzco heard the now- familiar voice at his door. He rolled over on his divan, burying his face in the cushions, ignoring the call.

"Kuzco? Let me in."

Kuzco still ignored the knock.  All of a sudden, he heard a key turn in the lock and looked up just in time to see Alexandria cross the room. Kuzco quickly grabbed a wool scarf from the ground and wrapped it around his face, Arabian-style. He glared at her. "How'd you get in here?"

"I'm the empress. I can get in anywhere." She approached the bed, looking almost………. contrite. "You weren't at dinner."

Kuzco grunted, increasing the glare.

"Oh, c'mon, honey, it was a just a harmless little joke!"

"You mean, sick, underhanded, vicious, cruel…….." Kuzco stared at his wife, eyes narrowed. "So is that what you're here to do? Apologize?"

"Apologize?" Alexandria shivered at the thought. "Honey, you make it sound like I did something BAD. Besides, your face doesn't look THAT awful. The ink will come off in a week or so." 

"Yes, it does- and no, it won't."

"Let me see. I might actually be able to take it off with this lemon juice. Then I'll say I'm sorry." She waved a vial full of clear yellow liquid at him to prove the validity of her statement, then came up and perched on the edge of the mattress.

"No way! Are you kidding me?"

"Pleeeaaasssseeee???" She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and stuck out her lower lip. "I promise I'll apologize. Scout's honor!"

Kuzco stared at her and didn't see even a hint of a smirk on her face, and he DID want to get the ink off somehow, so he slowly unwound the muffler and sat up straight, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see his reflection in the opposite mirror. There was total silence for a full minute. He opened his eyes.

Alexandria was staring at him with her eyes wide open, her lips trembling. Jeez, Kuzco thought. She isn't going to CRY from remorse, is she? "Look, Alexandria-" he began.

"Oh. My. Lord," Alexandria said, slowly and distinctly. She reached out with her fingers and carefully touched his face.

Then she broke into an explosive fit of laughter, falling off the bed and onto the floor.  "OhmyLord! Your FACE!!"

"WHAT?" Kuzco yelled over her peals of laughter. "What happened to the apology?"

"Good heavens, honey," Alexandria said, gasping for breath, "I was just trying to get you to take off that silly scarf so I could see if your face looked REALLY as bad as I thought it did. It looks worse!" She doubled over on the floor, holding her stomach and still laughing.

Furious at being had so easily, Kuzco could only sputter. "B-but……..you said 'scout's honor!'"

"Well now, honey, you have to be a scout to be held to that promise, dotcha?"  Cracking up at her own wit, she got to her feet and left, wiping her eyes as she did so. "Good LORD!" she said to the guards in the hallway as she stumbled out the door. "Did you see his FACE? Oh……….my……….It's……….it's……………" 

Kuzco could hear her laughing all the way down the hall. He narrowed his eyes, cast off the scarf, and headed for his main chambers. "Forget the face," he muttered through clenched teeth. This was WAR. Alexandria was a pro, he had to give her that- but she hadn't even seen one page of his book of tricks.

"Let the games begin," he muttered, a smile crossing his face. He hadn't had so worthy an opponent in a long time. This might actually turn out to be fun. "Guards? Oh, GUARDS???"

******************************************

"MEOW!"

"Shut up and sleep, puss!" 

Yzma glared up at the burly stableman who had just unceremoniously dumped her into a manger full of stale hay.  She was tempted to leap up and scratch his eyes out, then spit on them for good measure, but she managed to restrain herself. If she planned to regain her true form without detection, it would not do well to draw attention to the fact that the new barn cat was actually Yzma.

Yzma grouchily turned around and curled up into a ball, trying to get accustomed to the scratchy feel of the hay. Now she nearly- not quite, but nearly- regretted trying to usurp Kuzco's throne. Being a cat was disgusting! She had to deal with raw fish (straight from the sea, still flopping, SO not sushi), hairballs, and the worst- cleaning herself with ugh………. her TONGUE. Plus, there was an enormous yellow tomcat that was apparently enamored with her. She'd nearly ripped him to shreds the night before, but the attack only seemed to encourage him further. At least she wouldn't have to worry about his attentions tonight. Yzma smiled, remembering how she'd knocked him into the llama trough. It would take him at least six hours to get the llama-slobber smell out of his fur- that is, IF he hadn't drowned.

"So, didja hear?" the stableman was talking to someone else now. Yzma opened her eyes and saw his companion, a tall, muscular, well-built young man, who looked to be in his late twenties. She squinted, for once grateful for being a cat- her night vision had sharpened considerably. 

"No," she breathed. It couldn't be- but it was. "KRONK??!!??"

It was indeed her former assistant, that ever-present little rat-like squirrel perched on his shoulder. He was wielding an enormous basket of what appeared to be kitchen food scraps. Breakfast, Yzma thought with a shudder. Her fur prickled up in rage. Incompetent fool! It was HIS fault she was here right now, the dim-witted, lily-livered, idiotic little- why, she ought to leap on him and just- 

Yzma's mental ranting was interrupted when she picked up a very interesting piece of conversation. "Yeah, he's actually married," Kronk was confiding to the stableman. "Yeah, hard to believe, isn't it? His wife? Well, the empress is pretty enough. She seems a bit confused, though. I mean, she keeps seeing some imaginary guy named Kuta. And most people don't think she's that smart. I like her, though. She complimented me on my spinach puffs."

"Riighhntt," the stableman said, clearly skeptical. "So, are they-"

Their conversation faded into the background as Yzma began to think. "So Kuzco's married," she said to herself. She had every intention of regaining her true form and ascending the throne sooner than later, but………..a WIFE could greatly complicate things. And if the imperial hussy began producing brats, that could thwart her plans altogether. She wrinkled her brow (do cats have brows?) in intense concentration. This would take some thought.

Actually…………she thought, didn't Kronk say that she isn't 'that smart?' Anyone who looks dumb to Kronk must have nothing but a pulse. And……….she LIKED HIS SPINACH PUFFS. That in itself, Yzma decided, was enough to prove the woman's idiocy. She had a feeling that this empress, whoever she was, would be easily manipulated (her kind of gal!) and therefore, instrumental to Kuzco's undoing.

That is, if Yzma could get to her.  She settled into her bed, seething. 

"…………here to get a cat for the Empress, actually. I didn't give her a wedding present, and I felt kind of bad, so I decided to get her a pet, since she doesn't have one. She had to leave all of hers in Greece because they wouldn't be able to survive the journey. Cats are the cleanest, right?"

WHAT was Kronk saying? Yzma leaped to her feet, cocking her ears.

"They are, and I have just the cat for you," said the stableman, confidently. "His name is Chuza, and he's really sweet. Perfect cat for a lady. Plus, he's housebroken. Let me show you where the barn cats sleep."

Yzma leapt to her feet. What a providential opportunity! Except………..she turned and saw little Chuza, a kitten of four months who had been looking for a home since his mother had been run over by a llama cart. He was a calico cat with one black ear, and huge, green eyes. Disgustingly cute, and twice as sweet. He had already woken up from the noise of the men approaching and was blinking sleepily in their direction.

Yzma nearly coughed up a hairball. The little brat! she thought, furiously. "He sleeps right over here," she heard the stableman saying. Chuza had already gotten up on wobbly little legs and was heading for the direction of the two men.

"Not in THIS life, rodent!" hissed Yzma. She leapt forward and gave Chuza a smack with her paw that sent him rolling into an enormous haystack. It'll take him months to get out, she thought with satisfaction, trying to hold back her smirk. She almost felt like herself again.

The two men were almost to their destination now. Yzma sprang forward to greet them, then retreated in a panic.  Kronk knew what she looked like, she remembered. And so did Kuzco! AND the guards at the palace were instructed to shoot on sight any cat that looked like her if they saw her trying to enter.

Yzma had almost accepted defeat for the night when she saw an enormous coalbin sitting by the haystack in which the unfortunate Chuza was now stuck. Without thinking twice, she leaped in the coalbin and rolled over, then leapt to the floor, now a white-and-black spotted cat. She ran up to the men, (Easy, Yzma-girl, easy!) praying she wasn't recognized. The stableman stepped over her in his quest to find Chuza, but Yzma's prey was Kronk. She went over to him, batting her eyes and moving round his ankles. "Meow?"

"Well, hello there." Kronk lifted her up to face level, and it took the full extent of Yzma's self-control not to scratch his face to shreds . Instead, she purred. "Aren't you sweet." Kronk lifted her up to his shoulder, stroking her back, and she kept her claws retracted with incredible effort. Bucky was on his shoulder as well, and his beady little animal eyes widened with shock when he saw her. 

So he recognizes me! Yzma thought, grimly, watching the squirrel open his mouth in an attempt to warn Kronk. Well, too bad for him. 

Her forelock struck out with incredible power, and she knocked Bucky clean off his perch and into the straw on the ground. He attempted to scramble to his feet and back to Kronk, but she showed him her claws and indicated her sharp teeth- then plastered a syrupy-sweet look on her face as Kronk looked at her again. 

"Stableman, I think I found my cat," Kronk said, tucking Yzma under his arm and not seeing Bucky, who had retreated into the shadows after Yzma gave him another frightening grimace.

"Good," said the stableman. "I can't find Chuza. Can't imagine where he's got to."

He looked at Yzma  critically, and she held her breath. "Must be a new cat," he muttered. "Anyway, man, have a good one!" he waved bye-bye to Kronk as they exited.

Yzma could barely keep her face straight as they bypassed the guards and entered the palace, heading for the Empress' chambers. She was baaaaccccckkkk!!!

More coming SOON- that IS, if you review! Later!


	7. Pranks and repercussions: AKA Marital bl...

Disclaimer: I do not own, Disney does. Do not sue.  
  
Rating: PG for mention of a planned coup de etat  
  
"Here you are, your highness."  
  
Yzma opened her eyes at the sound of Kronk's voice. After her liberation from the barn, she had been deposited in a basket with a ribbon tied to it, atop a thick, plush cushion. She'd fallen asleep almost immeadiatly- planning a second overthrow took more strength than she could have possibly imagined.  
  
Now, apparently, she was being carried into the empresses' chambers. Rubbing her eyes with her paws, she sat up and peered at the woman sitting on the divan through the haze of silk gauze that covered the top of the basket.  
  
The young woman sitting on the divan and preening into a looking glass was very young, Kuzco's age, and quite pretty. She was dressed to the height of fashion and as a result of her royal upbringing, had all the elegance and grace that Yzma fought vainly to achieve while in human form. She was sipping a martini, and looked bored as Kronk spoke to her.  
  
"Milady, got you a little wedding gift. It's a bit late, I know, but.." Yzma felt herself being lifted upward as Kronk hoisted the basket upward. "Here you go."  
  
"Honey, what's this? Who are you? What are you doing?" The empress apparently hadn't been listening, and Kronk patiently began to repeat himself.  
  
"A...cat?" Yzma heard her say. "Oh, honey, you're going to make me pretend to cry. That's so sweet."  
  
"Thanks, Empress."  
  
There was total silence for a minute.  
  
"Well? You don't expect me to open my own gift, do you?"  
  
Yzma stiffened as Kronk pulled off the covering to her basket and she was instantly exposed to the light of the Empress' chamber. She blinked.  
  
"Here she is, Empress." Kronk said proudly.  
  
"Isn't she lovely. Now take her to the barn."  
  
If Yzma could have seen the expression on her OWN face, she probably would have been very amused. Kronk looked shocked as well. "I-"  
  
"You don't REALLY expect me to keep an animal in my room, do you, honey?" the Empresses' face registered a mixture of profound disbelief and amusement. "It can't be healthy! Just put her in the barn with all the other animal gifts. I'll send someone to visit her once in a while. It was nice of you to think of me though-" and she turned back to filing her nails.  
  
Pleased with the Empress' acceptance of his gift, Kronk bowed and began to back his way out the door. Yzma shook with fury.  
  
"There is NO way I'm going to go back to that filthy, stinking-" she shook her head, seething. When Kronk took one hand off the basket, she saw her chance.  
  
Leaping up in a giant ball of fur, spit, and claws, she cleared the side of the basket and landed on the floor, feet-first, like a...cat. She lifted her tail and made a break for the door.  
  
"Wait!" Kronk was after her like a shot. The Empress got off her divan and hurried to the door to watch the show. Ignoring Kronk, Yzma ran down the hall, stretching out her lean feline frame in what had to be the fastest run in history. She gasped for breath, certain her lungs were about to pop, but managed to reach the end of the hall, where four uniformed guards were waiting with a net.  
  
She skidded to a stop and dug her claws into the wood floor, scrabbling for balance, then swung heavily to the right. She watched in satisfaction as the men crashed into each other and hit the ground, then leapt nimbly over the groaning pile and headed for the East corridor, the one that led to her lab.  
  
"Oh honey, do it again!" she heard the empress shriek at the fallen guards, laughing and clapping. Stupid chit, she thought. She had to be the only cat in the world that could escape an entire slew of the Emporer's imperial guards. She strolled along placidly, trying to look like an ordinary cat, observing the changes that had been made in the palace.  
  
Yzma's face, images, and visage had been removed without a trace from the palace walls, and replaced with Kuzco's old artwork. The hair on her back instantly stood erect, and she was tempted to spit on the portraits, or better yet, scratch them up a bit- but caution told her otherwise. She would have plenty of time to do that once SHE was Empress.  
  
The thought hurried her along, and she reached the East corridor quickly, after little more than a cursory glance from the guards she passed. She slid up to the levers, looking up at them. THIS was going to take some work.  
  
"Which one, which one...." she muttered. Things sure did look different from the floor. Squeezing her eyes shut in concentration, she hopped up onto her hind legs and pulled the lever on the left with her front paws.  
  
As soon as she felt the floor lurch beneath her, she knew she had made a mistake.  
  
"WRONG LEEVVVEEEERRRRR!!!!!!"  
  
*******************  
  
Kuzco was moving into phase one of his Revenge Plan. He had dined with the Empress as usual, and was now walking down the hall of the place to her bedchambers, a covered basket in his arms. As he strolled along, whistling under his breath, guards recoiled, some covering their noses with their mail shirts, some passing out altogether. He waved nonchalantly to each.  
  
"Ooooo yeah, I AM the man...." Kuzco grooved his way into the room and waved away Alexandria's lady-in-waiting, a young, blonde, timid Grecian girl. "You're dismissed, lady! Scram! Begone! In fact, take the rest of the day off!"  
  
She curtsied and fled, holding her nose.  
  
"AND LOCK THE DOOR!!!" he yelled.  
  
Chuckling to himself, he set his basket on the floor and opened it, revealing the oily, rotting sardines inside. He then drew a thin knife from the inside of his cloak, as well as a large embroidery needle and fine silk thread. He walked through Alexandria's main sleeping and sitting rooms, heading for the enormous dressing room that now held all of her robes and dresses. He looked around the room, seizing up the amount of work that had to be done.  
  
"Should I really do this?" he muttered to himself, feeling a slight (very slight!!) pang of conscience. After all, it was all so.....immature. And slightly mean.  
  
Then he saw his reflection in her large, polished Egyptian brass mirror. His face was still streaked with black.  
  
He was doing it, all right.  
  
Kuzco went over to the first box that held her robes, opening the intricately carved cedar lid that rested on top. The delicate smell of the wood filled the air, along with the exotic-smelling spices the gowns were packed in. "They won't be smelling like this for long, lady." He took out his knife and went to work.  
  
An hour and a half later, Kuzco looked around that same room, surveying his handiwork with pride. The room looked virtually undisturbed. Every box, every hanging garment, every sandal, every slipper had been placed back in it's original spot, with one exception:  
  
The entire room now smelled of rotting sardines.  
  
It would be hard to find the source of the smell, too. Kuzco had made sure of THAT. Using his trusty knife, he had cut each hemline open, stuffed it liberally with the slimy fishes, and closed the seam with the needle and thread. He her shoes hadn't gone unscathed, either. Underneath each sole was a sardine.  
  
Kuzco left the room with a smirk. Top THAT, he thought.  
  
*******************************  
  
She topped it.  
  
Kuzco couldn't believe it. This woman was either a genius, or certifiably crazy.  
  
She topped it!  
  
His joke had been foolproof! Perfect! He chewed on his thumbnail in disbelief. His plan, at first glance, had worked out perfectly. Alexandria's chambers smelled entirely of rotting fish, and the hysterics he'd expected her to go into hadn't been disappointing, either. He had laughed long and loud- at the time, that is.  
  
Alexandria had nearly gone into conniptions, screaming at her maids, suspecting a conspiracy by poor Kronk, overturning all of her bins and boxes, which made the smell even worse, and demanded that the floor be fumigated.  
  
Needless to say, even after fumigation, her room smelled as bad as ever.  
  
Then she dressed in her royal robes for the traditional evening constitution in the garden with her ladies-in-waiting, drenching herself in perfume, and returned to the palace with an entire line of cats behind her, clawing at her gown. Kuzco nearly split his ribs cracking up, much to Kuta's disapproval.  
  
Kuzco's trick had been discovered when Alexandria's hem had caught on a nail as she entered the palace, ripping it. The fish had tumbled out onto the floor, and in their "delicateness," most of Alexandria's maids-in- waiting had fainted dead away.  
  
Alexandria hadn't followed suit. Instead, she looked up at Kuzco's window, where he was watching the whole display, lifted her chin, and gave him a chilling smile, which he had been laughing too hard to see.  
  
THAT should have warned him.  
  
He took another look at the...the...CARNAGE his wife had caused.  
  
Well, not exactly carnage, but close enough.  
  
When Kuzco had gone down that morning, he'd been informed by Kuta that his new chariot had arrived, from Rome. Carved gold and turquoise on the outside, mink-and-leather lined interior, solid gold wheels- this bad boy was the ULTIMATE ride.  
  
Or, at least it was.  
  
Kuzco had gone down to the chariot room with Alexandria, who had put down her morning toddy long enough to express an interest in seeing the new vehicle. Planning to take his new set of wheels for a bit of a spin, he'd asked the coachman to get him a horse, then walked into the showroom with Alexandria, locating his new chariot easily.  
  
Then the smell had hit him.  
  
Kuzco hurried over to his chariot, only to find it filled almost completely with half-rotting, smelly food remnants obviously from the kitchen. Banana peels, meat scraps, vegetable tops...his lip had curled involuntarily in disgust. THEN he screamed.  
  
"My...new chariot!" he yelled, sinking to his knees, inspecting the damage frantically. Suddenly, a suspicion hit him, and he looked at his wife. Her hands were pressed to her mouth, and her eyes were brimming with laughter. "Well honey, your new chariot is certainly-" she couldn't finish.  
  
"You little-" Kuzco was sputtering. "I'll get you if it's the last thing I- guards! Where are-"  
  
Before completing his command, however, he realized something. This was just GARBAGE. Nothing that a little soap, water and TLC wouldn't fix. Chuckling to himself, he stepped up into the chariot for closer inspection, careful that his feet didn't touch any of the debris. "Nice try, Alexandria," he said smugly, "but all of this can be washed off. Buh-bye, a- MAY-teuuuur. Better luck next-"  
  
That's when he saw them.  
  
Mealworms. Thousands of them. And they were chomping away at the garbage- as well as the ornate upholstery.  
  
They were EATING his chariot!  
  
Shocked, Kuzco fell over backwards, bowling straight into Alexandria, who was now laughing too hard to see. They both fell and rolled on the floor, Alexandria still in hysterics while trying to get up, Kuzco- well, trying to kill her. (Not actually KILL her, but, well, you know.)  
  
Screaming obscenities in their respective languages, the couple rolled out of the chariot house, down a slope, over some rocks, and through a flourishing rosebed. He tried to pull her hair. She tried to feed him his sandal.  
  
Kuta was called. He went to the couple, trying to separate them.  
  
They had to fish him out of the river.  
  
Anya was called. She was sent to talk some reason into the couple.  
  
SHE had to be rescued from a tree.  
  
Kronk was called, as a desperate, final, last resort.  
  
Heh.  
  
Needless to say, it was quite some time before the royal couple ran out of fresh adjectives to rain on the other's head, and they were finally found sleeping under a lilac bush in the gardens, apparently having grown exhausted after their tiff. Alexandria's hand was pushing Kuzco's sandal into his mouth, and HE had a firm grip on her ponytail.  
  
"Aren't they sweet?" Anya muttered sarcastically.  
  
Kuta, who had dried off, scowled. He could see no humor in the situation. "Summon that peasant friend of the Emperor's," he ordered. "Maybe he can help."  
  
He then gave orders for them to be separated, cleaned up and carried to their respective rooms.  
  
The royal couple would be entertaining guests from the Brizilian province of Kimsata in two weeks, and a huge treaty was riding on the meeting.  
  
They HAD to grow up by then.  
  
Hello faithful readers! So sorry for my delay in updating- it's a VERY long story which I wont bore you with- but now I'm back on this and will be updating regularly. This chapter may have been a bit over-the-top, but hey, it's fanfiction! Anyway, keep your eyes here for the next chapter! Pacha'll be back, and so will Yzma! Also- remember to review!! 


	8. Getting ALONG!

**Disclaimer:** I don't steal and do not intend to. My parents raised me right, _capish_?

**Rating: **PG, still. It's Disney, after all.

Dawn alighted with vivacious beauty over Kuzco's kingdom. Outside, everything was serene and beautiful. Merchants were unloading their goods to set up for market, children were washing and dressing for their lessons, and women were baking the morning bread. The air was scented with both the smells of the baking and the merchant's flowers.

This scenery was wasted on most of the residents of the palace, however.

Kuzco and Alexandria were in a meeting.

"Now, your highness," Kuta, AKA The Thing That Wouldn't Shut Up, was speaking. "The two of you _must _reach an amicable agreement before Kimsata's residents arrive. They will not give backing to a country when the reigning monarchs aren't in agreement!"

"I'm _not _talking to _her_!"

"Honey, you're not intellectually astute enough to converse with a roach!"

"Ex_cuse me?"_

"You heard me, honey. Or are you deaf as well as dumb?"

"Actually, I was surprised you have such a huge vocabulary….. Haven't had that morning drink yet, have you?"

"Why, you little….."

_"Enough!!" _Kuta's voice broke through their tirade, all formal protocol forgotten. He rubbed his temples agitatedly. "It's only been five minutes!"

"So? She started it."

"That's not true, honey! He-"

Kuta squeezed his eyes shut, contemplating the best way to end this ordeal. Stepping in front of a llama cart going at full speed was sounding pretty good right about then. "Five years until retirement," he muttered through gritted teeth. Then he took a deep breath and began again. "Your highnesses," he forced out, "I don't think that such behavior is seemly for-"

Blessedly, the door banged open, interrupting the trio. It was Anya. "Master Kuta, your Highness Emperor Kuzco, Your Highness Empress Alexandria, Pacha has arrived. Shall I bring him in?"

"_Please," _Kuta said, not even waiting for Kuzco and Alexandria's imperial permission, and pouring himself a cup of brandy from the nearby decanter. "Bring it in now."

She disappeared and then reappeared at the door with a poncho-clad Pacha in tow. When he saw Kuzco, his face broke out into a good-natured grin.

"Pacha! Man, am I glad to see you!" Kuzco jumped out of his chair and hugged him with all his might. "Take me away from here! _Please!"_

"Lord, yes. Take him away. Please!" drawled Alexandria.

Kuzco turned a furious eye upon his wife. "Hush up!"

"Make me!"

"Don't _tempt me, _lady!"

"Okay, okay, okayoakyoaky!" Pacha broke in, raising his hands to the sky.  "Time out!" he sat down on the divan, opposite the royal couple. He turned to Kuta.

"_You _handle this. I'm going to get another brandy."

Pacha stared at him. _Another _brandy? "What seems to be the problem here?"

The two eyed each other. Total silence.

Then, they exploded in a tirade of screaming that made Pacha clamp his hands over his ears. He turned to Kuta, who was now drinking the brandy straight out of the bottle. 

"HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN LIKE THIS?" (yelling over them)

"OH, ONLY SINCE AFTER THE WEDDING RECEPTION!!"

"OKAY. GUYS! QUIET!!"

"- and that's final!" they both yelled, then fell silent.

"Look, Emperor, Empress," he said. "I know you haven't been getting along, but this bickering really should stop. You're not children, and you have a kingdom to rule, together."

Kuzco snorted.

Pacha sighed. "Master Kuta, may I see Kuzco alone?"

"Certainly," Kuta said through his last mouthful of brandy. And if you'll excuse me, I have to go and make out my will. I have no reason to think I'll make it through to the end of the day." He bowed formally and walked stiffly from the room.

Pacha nodded at Kuzco, and the two exited into the powder room. Kuzco plopped himself down on a fluffy blue stool, and Pacha leaned on the washbasin. "Now, Emperor-"

"I know what you're going to say, Pacha, and I can't do it. She's impossible!"

"But, Emperor-"

_"You _try living with her." Kuzco buried his chin in his hands, depressed. "It's horrible! No living soul could be so selfish, so spoiled….."

"Except maybe you?" Pacha said dryly.

Kuzco gave him a sharp look, but he continued anyway. "Kuzco, the Empress is unhappy. She's away from all the people and things she was used to, and she's your age as well. Just imagine how _you_ would feel…..."

"If you were forced to marry someone you've never even _met?_ Yeah, I can understand how _that _feels." Kuzco raked a hand through his hair.  "Customs suck."

Pacha was inclined to chuckle, but he couldn't- the matter was much too serious. "Look. Why don't you two find something you both enjoy to do, and do it together?" 

"Pacha. We can't even eat in the same room without attempted homicide."

Pacha gave him a severe look. "One of you is going to have to be the bigger person, Emperor. And I think that someone is you."

"Why _me?"_ Kuzco whined. "She ruins everything! I've lost my freedom, my bachelor status, my chariot……and _she's_ lost-"

"Her home, her friends, her family, and her kingdom," Pacha said quietly. "Think about it, Kuzco. At least you're still in a place you can call home."

Kuzco opened his mouth to retort, but swallowed his words, obviously thinking about what his friend had just said. 

"Did you ever ask her about where she came from? Or who her parents were?"

Kuzco shook his head. _God, _he hated having a conscience.

"Then how can you be sure she's totally evil, if you don't even know her?"

Kuzco scowled, the furrows in his forehead deep and pronounced, staring at his feet. "I hate you," he muttered.

Pacha smiled.

"All right, all right, I'll go and talk to her. Don't look all smiley like I'm your kid or something."

"Atta boy!" Pacha gave him a firm pat on the back, followed up by a friendly punch. Kuzco gave him the hand. "No touchie!"

"Sorry."

Both men exited the room. Alexandria was seated where they had left her, now working on her toenails. Pacha gave him a little nudge in her direction, and Kuzco whirled around, fixing him with the end all glare to end all end - all glares.

"GO!" Pacha mouthed.

"I AM!" Kuzco hissed silently. Pacha would pay for this. "Um, Alexandria?"

Startled, she nearly upset her polish bottle, but recovered aptly. "Yes, honey?"

"It would do me great pleasure if you'd accompany me on a shopping trip today. We can tour the markets and see the city. It will take up an apt amount of time until our meeting with the Kimsata delegation." There. A little stiff maybe, but that was the best he could do, under the circumstances. 

"Shopping, honey?"

"Yes." Oh, Pacha was going to _pay _for this….. Kuzco braced himself for the sarcasm, but to his surprise…..

"Sure, honey. What time do you want to leave?"

Kuzco felt his mouth open in shock. "I……."

"Twelve it is." Alexandria gathered up her robes and swept out of the room. "I'll see you then."

Still in a state of shock, Kuzco whirled around, only to face Pacha, whose smug grin was taking up most of his face. "Y'know, I can re-issue orders for Kuzcotopia to be built," he said crossly. 

Pacha managed to wipe the grin off of his face, but he looked overjoyed. "This is fantastic, Emperor! You'll get along just fine."

"Yeah. That's exactly what Ceaser said about the Triumvirate, and look at what happened to _them._ You've done your evil work. Now begone!" Kuzco strode dramatically from the room.

Pacha just shook his head and laughed.

******************************************************************

"Oh, my Lord."

"Oh, my Lord."

"Oh, my Lord."

Kuzco turned to Alexandria, slightly peeved, but she was staring out through the gauze-lined curtains of the royal carriage at the bustling midmorning crowd that had gathered in the marketplace. Her eyes were wide, and she exclaimed at every little thing she saw.

"Haven't you ever been to a market before?" Kuzco asked, his natural curiosity overriding his natural dislike of talking to her. 

"Oh my Lord."

"I'll take that as a no."  
 Kuzco raised his hand and called out to the llama driver when they reached a series of booths. "Stop here."

Alexandria started when the carriage stopped, her eyes growing huge. "Honey, we're being robbed!"

Kuzco rolled his eyes. "I told him to stop. We're getting out here."

"You must be out of what little mind you have. It can't be safe! I mean, people have walked on this road in _dusty sandals! _There's dirt on it!"

_Be the bigger person…be the bigger person…._Sighing, Kuzco held out his arms. "Come on. I'll carry you."

"_You?" _she scoffed. But at least she conceded to sticking her head out of the side of the carriage. "Why not a guard?"

"Because if we take a guard, the crowd'll recognize us in a minute. We'll get mobbed. And on that note….." He pulled his "disguise" over his head- the poncho that Chicha had made for him. He handed a thick wool veil to his wife. "Here. Put this on."

Alexandria tentatively reached out and touched the fabric with a fingertip, then jumped back in fear. "Honey, that fabric scares me!"

"It's wool." 

"So is that what they call it?" Alexandria pulled the cloak on, and it easily covered her from head to toe. "Oh…..fine," Crossly, Alexandria put her arms around his neck and allowed him to pick her up, and the carriage rolled away. To Kuzco's surprise, she was actually quite light, and he moved easily over the cobblestones with her still in his arms. "If I break out in a rash, I'll have you executed. So. What peasant function are we attending?"

Kuzco ignored her sarcasm. "The market's a lot of fun. I haven't been here for years. When I was a kid, I used to disguise myself and come down here for days at a time…."

Alexandria looked bored with his story, not to mention the whole trip itself. "Mmmhmm." 

Finally fed up, Kuzco stopped short in the middle of the road. "Look, Alexandria," he said, frustrated. "You can't be carried the whole time. Why can't you just relax and _try _to enjoy yourself? Quit whining for once."

Alexandria looked shocked for a minute; then her expression turned to one of injured dignity. "Of course I can walk, honey, if that is your wish. You needn't _shout._"

Feeling slightly guilty, Kuzco allowed her to disentangle herself from his grip and straighten her toga, pointedly lifting it above the ground. She began walking without a second word to her husband, nose in the air.

Groaning inwardly, Kuzco hurried after her. So much for Pacha's advice- they were ALREADY arguing. This was going to be a _long_ afternoon. "Alexandria…"

The empress was much faster than he'd anticipated and had stopped short in front of a merchant's house, gaping in amazement. When he reached her, she grabbed his arm, their previous argument apparently forgotten. "Honey, what is _that?" _she whispered, eyes enormous.

Kuzco looked past her pointing finger to a huge tub, filled with scrubbing stones and steaming water, where hearty village women were scrubbing clothes, beating them across the rocks, then wringing them out.

"That is a laundrymat, Alexandria," he said, pleased to import some knowledge to her. She still looked amazed by the proceedings. "People come here to wash their clothes. Then…." He glanced furtively around, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Then they _reuse _them."

Alexandria gasped and grabbed her heart. "Oh, my!"

Kuzco nodded. "I couldn't believe it when I saw it for the first time, either." 

"I think I need to sit down." Alexandria did so and managed to close her still-gaping mouth. "Why, commonplace people are just plain clever," she breathed.

Kuzco nodded in agreement. "If you think _that _was something, just wait till you see the bakery."

"Let's go!" Alexandria leapt to her feet, pulling Kuzco up with her. "This is fun!" 

The royal couple ran amok in the marketplace, visiting every booth. Alexandria made a point of visiting every jewelry booth, and by the end of their trip was decked out in enough cheap baubles to be mistaken for a gypsy. Kuzco found a chariot to replace the one that Alexandria had destroyed, and they visited dress shops to see if they could find replacements for Alexandria's gowns.

That, however, turned out to be a mistake.

"Honey, these fabrics……!"

When the empress became convinced that she saw a bolt of cotton moving towards her, ready to attack, Kuzco knew it was time to vacate _that _store. He made a mental note to order Grecian and Egyptian fabrics for her. 

The royal couple lunched standing up by a small booth that sold- of all things- fried dormouse. Kuzco was surprised when Alexandria ate two lunch specials- apparently, dormouse was a delicacy in Greece.  

It was late afternoon before they returned to the palace. Kuta met them at the door. "Your Majesties! The delegation……"

"Has arrived from Kimsata. Yeah, we know." Kuzco rolled his eyes. "Look. We've both got to bathe and get dressed, so keep them busy. Take them on a garden tour or something. Come on, Alexandria-" and the two retired to their respective rooms to dress for dinner. 

Kuzco was dressed in a record thirty minutes, then went and knocked on his wife's dressing room door. Her maid Helena opened the door. "Madame, it is the Emperor Kuzco," she reported.

"Honey, who on earth is _that?"_

"Your husband, my lady."

"My what?"

Kuzco rolled his eyes and pushed open the door. "Alexandria, I know you're- arrrgghhh!" he covered his eyes. "Why didn't you say you weren't dressed yet?"

Alexandria fingered the powders on her vanity, seemingly unconcerned, in spite of her maids' fluttered attempts to cover her with a robe. "Why did you barge in my room?"

"That's not the issue…." Kuzco decided to give up the argument. "_Anyway,"_ he said, averting his eyes, "we have to be down there in twenty minutes. I'm supposed to walk in with you."

"All right……Helena, which rouge? The red or the peach….?"

"You will…..behave tonight, won't you?"

"Yes, of course honey," Alexandria said carelessly. "Just tell that steward of yours to keep my wine goblet full- none of that sissy stuff, either- and I should be fine…..I think we'll go with the peach, Helena……"

"Why doesn't that reassure me more?" muttered Kuzco, but he decided to take her at her word. "I'll see you later. And I'll _definitely _knock next time."

She wiggled her fingers at him in farewell.

_                                                ******************************************************_

"Yes….very good…….yes _indeed…..very_ good…….now turn for me, boys!"

Yzma stood on the top of the box in the center of the training arena, surveying the soldiers that now marched obediently in front of her, going through their paces. They were all tall, heavily muscled, and though a bit long in the tooth, broad-shouldered and fleet-footed.

Who knew that a pack of trained guard dogs would transform into such fine men?

After Yzma had broken loose from the clutches of the fearsome palace "guards," it had been easy to sneak into her lab and remix a potion to turn herself human again. When back to natural form, she felt to good that she'd even managed to develop a transforming formula to turn _animals _into _humans._ Buying a pack of trained guard dogs had been easy, and so had enhancing her formula with a bit of muscle developer. So now….she had her soldiers.

Already trained to be vicious, fear nothing, and attack at command.

(Their eating habits left much to be desired, though. How much raw meat _could _they eat without getting sick?)

Yzma had been working with them daily- on learning to walk on two legs, on obeying basic battle commands, on wielding and using weapons, her passionate desire for revenge on Kuzco pushing her forward.

Yzma had her army.

And soon, she would have her revenge.

                                                ******************************************************

"ANNOUNCING THE ARRIVAL OF THEIR MAJESTIES EMPEROR KUZCO OF PERU AND HIS CONSORT AND EMPERESS, FORMER PRINCESS ALEXANDRIA OF GREECE!"

Kuzco winced slightly at the sound of Kuta's extraordinarily loud voice boomed directly into his ear as he sedately entered the banquet hall, Alexandra on his arm. They paused and waited as a row of very fat diplomats stood and bowed. These must be the men from Kimsata.

Kuzco and Alexandria slowly made their way down the steps and across the marble floor of the hall, nodding graciously to each Kimsatian representative as they passed them. Kuzco caught their reflection in one of the mirrors in the hall and was actually startled. Why, we look like a….real emperor and empress, he thought. They were dressed in matching robes of a deep purple hue, fastened with intricately carved gold and pearl belts and shoulder pins, the royal crowns on their heads. Kuzco was walking with all the pride of a seasoned ruler, though his face betrayed his youth, and in spite of all her nonsense, Alexandria always moved with a cool, reserved elegance common only to royal blood. 

Together, they looked pretty darn good.

Boosted by this revelation, Kuzco gravely walked to the ornately upholstered royal couch at the head of the long banquet table. He helped his wife onto it, carefully tucking her robes underneath her, and reclined himself, indicating with a hand that his guests should sit, seeing the Kimsatian king to a couch on the other side. They did so, and almost instantly, music began to play, and the room was filled with delicious smells, as servers began to circulate the dining hall with laden trays.  

The meal began with a course of leek soup and freshly boiled duck eggs, and as the food went down, conversation began to flow. Kuta had wisely chosen a small yet elegant setting for the banquet, making the environment casual enough for conversation yet formal enough for a royal dinner. Kronk was specifically asked to cook for the occasion (though, ominously, his spinach puffs were left off the menu at the emperor's request) and he truly outdid himself, moving through the diners with grace and ease, serving delicacies that had never been heard of. The guests marveled at his dishes, and Kuzco was asked more than once if he'd be willing to release his chef to Kimsata. 

"Emperor Kuzco." 

Kuzco nearly choked on a piece of the meat course (tender chunks of sautéed rabbit, topped with a delicate honey-spice sauce) and turned to the King of Kimsata, was now speaking to him. All evening, he'd left most of the political talk to his advisors, a trick he'd learned over the years after he was forced by chance to become a fourteen-year-old emperor. "Um, yes?"

"You seem rather young to rule." The bearded, oily-whiskered king of Kimsata, Urui, leaned over to Kuzco's couch in a manner that was much too familiar. "How old _are_ you?"

What presumption, Kuzco thought. "I'd have to kill you if I told you that," he said, deadpan.

The man laughed without humor. "You should know," he said coolly, that I am the man who decides whether or not a treaty is presented to you or not." He paused for effect. "I am no fool, Emperor."

"I don't think you are a fool, but what's my opinion compared to that of everybody else?"

The king ignored Kuzco's sarcasm.  "How old are you?"

Kuzco glared at him. "Old enough. And that's "how old are you, '_sire_' to _you_, bud."

"Your highness," the man said, smooth as oil, "it was not in my intention to insult you. I merely needed to know because of the treaty."

"Please, keep talking. I _always _yawn when I'm interested."

Once again, the king ignored Kuzco's barb. "It's about your wife, sire."

"My…..oh, Alexandria. My _wife_." Kuzco glanced next to him, where Alexandria was reclining, carrying on a conversation with a couple of other men and sipping from her goblet. "Yeah, I guess she is……what about her?"

"She seems rather young as well." His eyes raked over her reclining form. "Although- I must say- she is very lovely. You have exceptional taste, son."  

_Son? _What nerve…..Kuzco moved closer to Alexandria on the couch. She was a pain, but……he really didn't like the way Urui was leering at her. "What's your point?"

Urui instantly turned businesslike. "You can't be older than seventeen or eighteen, and your wife looks around the same age. Is there any potential of your having a heir in the near future?"

"I beg your _pardon?" _was this guy really serious?

"I cannot present a treaty to a country in which the monarchs are not in……agreement, let us say."

Kuzco was about to explode, but reason cleared his head. "I….you….." he stammered. Then he had an idea. "Us not being in agreement? I don't think you have to worry about _that,_ Urui." Glancing over at Alexandria, who was draining her cup, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Don't move, don't scream……"and casually rested his hand on her left hip, beginning to stroke it gently, flashing his best "I've got it going on" smile at Urui. He waited with dread for her reaction, but to his surprise, she didn't say anything- just widened her eyes and stiffened slightly. _I need to distract her quickly……_"Kronk!" he hollered. "The empress needs more liquor. Quickly!"

Kronk trotted over accordingly. "Red or white wine, Madam?"

"Just _pour_."

Apparently, Kuzco's ruse had worked- Urui's eyes were now fixed on his hand. "So….." he said, "can I present the treaty?"

"That would be great." Kuzco replied. 

He could barely keep the grin off his face.

                                                **************************************************

"We DID it!"

Kuzco and Alexandria were walking down the hall to their chambers after the dinner, both thoroughly exhausted. "I know," Alexandria said, calmly. "A moment's notice when you plan to feel me up will be nice in the future, however."

"Sorry about that." Kuzco shrugged. "It worked, though, didn't it?"

"Yes. We make a decent team."

The words hung in the air for a moment, as words sometimes do, and the two reached their rooms in silence. Kuzco opened Alexandria's door for her, politely. "So….you wanna go out tomorrow to celebrate? I can take you to that bakery and prove for once and for all that bread doesn't grow on trees."

Alexandria rolled her eyes. "Honey, I've never heard anything as ridiculous as your story that bread is made from ground wheat. I'll come along, though."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Kuzco."

It wasn't until Kuzco was tucked into his bed and falling asleep that he realized she'd finally called him by his actual name.

Update upcoming soon- I'm on break and back on the story. REVIEW!!! PLEASE!!!


	9. Trouble in paradise?

Disclaimer: nothing has changed

Rating: Ditto

"_Boom, _baby!"

Kuzco sprang out of bed at the first cock's crow, causing his valet to stare at him in surprise. It really wasn't his style to be all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the _morning._

"Kuta! Dude!" he yelled, clapping his hands. "Send for my dresser!"

"U_m......._" Kuta glanced sideways at him, looking slightly afraid. "Is everything all right, sire?"

Kuzco raised an eyebrow. "Fine, except for the fact that you are _standing _there like a rock instead of summoning Anya- I'm great, otherwise."

Kuta scurried for the door, and Kuzco, whistling, headed for his baths and his dressing rooms.

Even Anya noticed his improved mood. "What did you do, take over the world this weekend?" she asked dryly.

Kuzco looked up from where he was combing his hair and turned his eyes sideways, up at her. "I will celebrate my good mood by ignoring your so-called wit."

Anya laughed and sat down on one of the divans in the room, arranging his robes in the order he'd put them on. "Seriously, Emperor. What has you in such a good mood? You're scaring me."

"I don't know," admitted Kuzco, fastening his mantle over his shoulders. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm so _gorgeous….."_ he began blowing air kisses at his reflection.

Anya rolled her eyes and headed for the door. She paused. "Look, are there any outfits you need ready for today? Any luncheons, state dinners……"

"No," Kuzco looked up from his nail brush after a moment of thought. "I'm just going riding with the wifey."

"You two are going out _again_?" Anya raised her slender brows in a fashion that would have been much too familiar on an ordinary servant. "You go out like, every day."

"I guess so," said Kuzco, raising his own eyebrow. "And it seems that _someone _here doesn't have a life." He readjusted his mantle. 

"And the new robe?" Her brows lifted to the limit. "Mmmmm…."

Kuzco shot her a look. "Don't you have clothes to wash, or some other servant-ey things to do?" he returned. Nosy Egyptian.

Anya retired, still wearing that insinuating grin, and Kuzco laughed, now that he was in private.

It was true- he and Alexandria _had _been hanging out a lot lately. It was as if, after the banquet- an unspoken truce- if not a tentative friendship- had arisen between them. Kuzco actually found himself enjoying spending time with a girl of his own age, station, and taste, and when Alexandria's sarcasm wasn't directed at _him,_ she could be rather funny.

Plus, the girl could _dress_.

Not too shabby of a wife to have.

Kuzco exited his rooms, stopping to toss a couple gold coins to the guards in the hall- "buy some bread for your kids-!" and walked the short distance to Alexandria's door. He knocked. "Alexandria! You up yet?"

He waited but instead of her customary – "Lord, honey! Why don't you scream a little louder? Maybe take out an ad with the town crier-!" there was total silence.

"Alexandria!"

Seeing her little blonde maid walking down the hall, he grabbed her by the elbow. "Helena!" he said. "Where's your mistress?"

"The…..the empress is still in her chambers, your grace," she stammered. 

"Is she awake?"

"I….."

"Look. I don't have time for this-" and Kuzco pushed his way through the door.

"GET OUT!" the screeching that came from her bed was so unearthly that he actually stepped back. "Alexandria-"

"I said get OUT!" Alexandria sat bold up in bed, pushing her hair away from her face. She was dressed in a thin white gown, and her skin was paler than usual, and streaked with moisture.

"Are you……are you _crying?" _ Kuzco asked in disbelief. Alexandria, CRY? No. It _couldn't_ be.

But the tears were streaming down her face.

Kuzco neared her bed, concerned. Was she sick? "Alexandria, talk to me," he said, coming closer. Her hair was slightly mussed, her eyes looked wild, and she was still crying. In the simple nightrail and sans makeup, she looked like a little girl, almost. "Alexandria?" he reached out and took her elbow.

Alexandria jerked back from him with a force that surprised him. "Don't touch me!" she snapped. 

"WHAT?" Kuzco said, defensively. He was beginning to get frustrated. "What is WRONG with you?" her being nasty to him wasn't anything new- in fact, it was something of a _tradition _with them. But her snippy comments had always been delivered with an undercut of playful sarcasm that they both enjoyed. But this……..

This was just plain nasty.

Kuzco stared at her, wondering why she was seemingly unable to formulate a reply. "Alexandria?"

Her eyes seemed to focus on something above his head, something far away. "Just……go away," she said, tonelessly.

Kuzco didn't move.

"Did you HEAR ME??" Alexandria was screaming, now. "Go away! I hate you!"

Whoa.

Kuzco stepped back, getting a surprisingly strong sensation of being punched in the gut.  _Whaaaaaaatttttt_**_?_******He had NOT seen THAT little comment coming.

Alexandria threw her covers over her head and plunged back into the depths of her bed in one melodramatic plunge. "Just stay away from me!"

After ten minutes of standing there with his mouth open, Kuzco managed to walk out of her room. Head swirling with unvoiced thoughts. Whhy would she……in spite of all their bickering, she had never actually said that she HATED him.

It hurt. More than he thought it could.

Still in his meditative state, Kuzco plunked down on the floor of the hall, trying to get his bearings. OK. So, Alexandria was obviously very ticked about something. And she was taking it out on him, for some reason. Kuzco's mind quickly scanned the events of the previous days, and found nothing unusual- he and Alexandria had even been getting along better!

So, why-?

And more importantly, why did he care?


	10. Alexandria's problem

Disclaimer: Yzma and I are still working hard, but our attempts to take over Disney are going nowhere. They still own it all, baby.

Rating: G

"Are you okay, Kuzco?"

Kuzco looked up from the food he was eating, so startled that he dropped a hot asparagus tip into his lap, burning his bare leg. He flicked it off without flinching, and looked up to see who had interrupted his thoughts.

Kronk and Anya were standing there, looking concerned.

"Um…yeah. I'm fine."

"You haven't touched your raisin cakes, sire," Kronk said, looking slightly hurt. "I made them fresh this morning."

Kuzco had a sarcastic comeback at the tip of his tongue, but just couldn't summon up the energy to use it. Instead, he picked up one of the proffered cakes and began to play with it, idly. "Is the Empress out of her rooms yet?" he finally asked.

Anya gave him a look that was both concerned and sympathetic. "No. She hasn't taken any food today, either." She waited for a moment. When Kuzco said nothing, his brow still furrowed, she spoke again. "Do you…shall I have her summoned?"

"No!" Kuzco looked up quickly. "Actually, you guys can go. Thanks for the meal."

Exchanging glances, Anya and Kronk both hesitated, then left together. Kuzco didn't even notice them go- his head was swirling with thoughts, something it didn't do very often.

So Alexandria was still in her rooms, brooding over whatever it was that had her so upset. Kuzco picked at his breakfast, still thinking. Was she sick? Hungover, most likely. But…..

When she had screamed on him, Kuzco had seen something in her eyes- something that had shaken him to the point of actually… _worrying_ about her. If she had been whining out of sheer meanness, selfishness, or battiness, he wouldn't have cared a bit. But this….this was different. Her injured expression…the tears streaming down her face….

He'd see actual hurt in her eyes. Actual pain and anger. And he didn't like what he had seen- not one bit.

Kuzco half-considered going to her rooms and trying to draw her out again, but when he'd done that before, all he got for his pains was silence, followed by a number of colorful insults in Greek. He got up and crept over to her door anyway.

Just as he was about to knock on it, he was startled when Alexandria's tiny little maid, Helena, leapt out of the room, carrying a tray. When she saw Kuzco, she blushed to the roots of her hair and curtseyed immediately. "Your highness!"

"Yeah, yeah, enough of that," Kuzco said impatiently. He motioned to the tray, which was filled. "Did she eat anything?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Helena's face, as if she was shocked that he would inquire after Alexandria. It was skillfully hid underneath her "servant's mask" in a second. "A little, sir."

"Helena," Kuzco said sternly, "Look at me. And drop that demure expression." _Whoa. is that me talking? I actually sound like...an emperor! Cool! But back to business. Oh yeah. Alexandria._

Helena looked at him in surprise.

"Tell me what's wrong with Alexandria. What's _really _wrong with her."

"Well," Helena said, glancing down the hall furtively. Kuzco saw her expression and took her by the arm, pulling her into his room. When the door was shut behind him, he glared at her. "Talk."

"It…" Helena shifted her feet. "That is to say…"

"Out with it, Helena!"

"Today is her birthday!" Helena sputtered. "She's eighteen today, and she's….homesick."

_"What?"_ Since there was no sign of a seat, Kuzco plunked down on the floor. Helena squatted down beside him. "Are you all right, sire?"

"It's her birthday?" With a sudden flash of guilt, Kuzco remembered the three-week festival that had accompanied his own recent birthday, not to mention the whole "Kuzcotopia" incident. He had been at home, surrounded by his own people. He had been congratulated and been given gifts by everyone in the palace (course, it had been because they knew they'd have been _dead_ otherwise, but _still.)_

Alexandria was by herself, in a strange land, married off to an emperor she barely knew….and had no one to celebrate one of her biggest birthdays with, except her maid.

He couldn't blame her for acting the way she was…

"Yes, sire." Helena's voice broke into his thoughts, which were racing with the rapidity of a speeding llama. "Her father normally holds a week-long birthday feast for her at the palace, and she is given a tremendous amount of gifts. Festivals are held in her honor, and…"

Kuzco tilted his head. Now that his initial shock was wearing off, his thinking was much clearer. "Hush for a second, lady, I'm trying to think." Despite the fact that she was…Alexandria, no one, _no one_ deserved to be alone on their birthday. That would be just…_cruel._ And besides…since the Kimsata banquet, and since they had begun spending civil time together, he had begun to…care for her, in a really strange way that scared him half to death whenever he stopped to think about it...

But it was too late for him to do anything for her without it looking like an afterthought….unless….

He turned to the maid, his eyes suddenly bright.

"Helena," he said, "I have a plan that I think will help your mistress feel better…but I need your help."

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_"Splendid!"_

Somewhere in the deep dark throes of the woods surrounding Kuzco's kingdom, a woman was crying out on joy.

Yzma was standing at the head of her army.

She studied them with the hooded expression of one who knows that she is old and ugly and there's no turning back, despite potions, creams and chemical peels. They stood with the blank, drooling, uncomprehending looks of- well, dogs that had been turned to men .

Yzma adjusted her new dress, a light tunic worn underneath heavy mail armor. "Men, you have been impeccably trained, thanks to my genius," she announced, pausing her speech to preen. "Who is your master?"

The men kneeled before her, indicating her with outstretched arms.

"And who is our enemy?" she hissed, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to look sinister (but actually only succeeding in deepening the wrinkles that surrounded them).

"Kuzco," the men growled.

"Who?"

Kuzco!"

_"Who?"_

"KUZCO!"

Yzma's voice was cracking by now, so she ended the chant and waved the men away for the evening. She took a seat on a rock and practiced her evil cackle.

After all, she'd need it pretty soon.

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"Alexandria?"

Kuzco was standing outside his wife's door, rapping on the door. "Alexandria!" _Maybe I should go away…._After all, he didn't want her to scream that she _hated _him again or anything.

But he needed to go through with this. He had to.

When no one answered, he sat down on the floor. "I'm going to stay out here until I get an answer from you!"

No answer.

"You have _got _to come out of there sometime!"

No answer.

Kuzco sighed and played his trump card. "I've got Chablis!"

Silence. Then he heard footsteps. The door opened a crack. He heard her voice. It was low and subdubed, not high and nasal as it usually was. But it was Alexandria, all right. "Vintage?"

"You bet."

There was a sigh. The door creaked as it opened. One large eye peered out, veiled by thick, dark hair.

Kuzco reached out and pulled the door open, then stepped back in shock as what he saw.

Alexandria was standing there, all right- but it wasn't the high-strung, high-colored, fashionable girl he was used to. This creature was swathed in the same thin bedclothes she'd been wearing days ago, and her hair looked wild and tangled. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying repeatedly and for a long time, too. And her face…she still had that sad, lost-little-girl expression in her eyes.

_She must've been even more miserable than I thought…_Kuzco thought to himself, surprised at the sudden impulse he had to hug her.

"Come on, Alexandria," he said loudly, interrupting his own thoughts. "I want to…I want to give you something."

"What is it?" She asked, dully.

"Your birthday gift."

She looked up in shock, but could say nothing, since Kuzco was dragging her down the hall by the hand, still dressed in her nightclothes. "You have Helena to thank, really," Kuzco said crossly, still rattled by his earlier feelings when she'd stepped out the door. "She told me why you were so upset….after _you _wouldn't."

Alexandria didn't answer; instead, she looked down at the ground that they were covering as they moved through the hall.

"Alexandria," for once Kuzco decided to take the direct route and avoid the sarcasm, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd care," Alexandria said sullenly. "You don't have to do anything for me."

Kuzco was silent for a moment, thinking. Had he really been such an ogre? But then again, she had had her moments, too…..

There was no time to talk, however. They had reached a large, ornately carved gold-plated door that led to the entire west wing of the palace. "Well," Kuzco said, gesturing to the door, "here it is."

Alexandria narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Your present. Open the door."

When Alexandria hesitated, Kuzco sighed. "Look, Alexandria," he said patiently, "You have my word that this isn't a trick. I wouldn't do that to you…at least, not at a time like this. And…I gave it to you because I want to, not because I thought I should."

Alexandria nodded in his direction, then placed her fingers on the knobs.....

Kuzco rolled his eyes. "Good grief, woman. Sometime before I'm twenty!"

.....and threw the doors open.

What she saw made her gasp.


	11. A Birthday Gift

**Disclaimer: **I still own nothing.

**Rating: **PG, as usual. Oh, and I left an **author's note** on the review page- please check it out. Thanks! Oh, and sorry it's so short...back to school is NOT COOL. Update soon though!

"Alexandria?"

It had been a good two or three minutes since Alexandria had thrown open the double doors to the west wing of the palace, and she was standing in front of him, frozen, apparently still in shock. He loved the fact that his little birthday gift had made such an impact on her, but...his feet were getting _really_ tired. "Um, Alexandria?" he asked.

No response.

"Look," he said, staring at her back, "no offense or anything, but you make a much better door than a window."

When she still didn't move, Kuzco took her by the shoulders and attempted to move her. She stepped aside surprisingly easily, and he moved up beside her, surveying the scene before her.

The entire west wing of the palace had been gutted and refurbished, made over completely to look like…

"Home," Alexandria breathed. Her green eyes looked surprisingly bright.

"Not bad, huh." Kuzco was predictably smug. "Come on in." He took her wrist and pulled her forward, not even a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "You can't see anything from here."

The change _was _astounding. With Helena's help, Kuzco had basically redone an entire wing of his palace- virtually, an entire side. He'd called in the finest laborers and contractors from all corners of the kingdom, making them abandon their various projects, all to ensure that the job was done perfectly, and quickly. And now that he was viewing the results through Alexandria's eyes, he was pleased.

Very pleased.

"Not bad, Kuzco," he muttered to himself. "Not bad at-all." It was amazing, the changes that had been made in only a few days.

The narrow, gilded halls identical to the rest of the palace had all been knocked down, and the windows had been ripped open to twice their size, letting in an abundance of light and fresh air. The elegantly stained wood floors, imported carpets and intricately carved gold-plated walls were all gone. Instead, there was an immense, open space, and the floors had been pulled up, stripped and replaced with white marble, flushed with the faintest tint of rose. It was cool to the touch. Pillars of the same marble stood in each corner, wrapped in delicate green vines.

Instead of the heavy, dark, drapes of rich fabrics that had once adorned the windows, long strings of translucent, multi-colored glass beads hung from frame to sill on each. These beads, in an ingenious method introduced to the contractors by Helena, had been dipped in perfumed water, and the breezes that wafted in from outdoors ran through the strands, cooling the vast chamber as well as filling it with the spicy-sweet aroma of flowers and cinnamon. Imbedded in the floor was a large pool, filled with water flowing from a set of carefully-arranged stones from the sea, imported from the Grecian coastline.

The floor of the pool was covered with brightly covered mosaics depicting stories of the Greek gods, and a separate tank encased in colored glass featured brightly colored tropical fish. Hand-crafted, painted privacy screens stood on one side, ready to be unfolded and used. Kuzco walked over and touched one of the rocks, for lack of anything better to do. It was flat, warm to the touch, and smooth from its journey though the rolling waves. It had come a long way to be here.

Alexandria was still moving as if in a fog, crossing the marble floor with silent steps, pushing back her tumbled dark hair with her small hands. Her mouth hung slightly open, and her eyes were slightly dazed. She reached out and touched a delicate, flower-ridden vine that now crawled up one of the walls. Light from the adjoining window illuminated her, shining through the loose white fabric of her nightgown, draped around and over her arms and legs. She followed the vines with her fingers to the place where they led out the window, then looked out. Silent.

Kuzco waited for a minute and watched her before speaking. Tall, slender, elegant, draped in white, her long, thick, dark hair cascading down her back, she looked as if she belonged in this landscape, this foreign chamber- like a kind of statue. Helena had done her job well. The place looked very feminine, exactly like her, in a way.

The hand that he could see clutched the wall for a moment, then slid down, crushing the delicate folds of her nightgown as she clutched the white fabric in her fist.

"Ummm…" Kuzco didn't quite know what to say. "You have rooms for sleeping and eating here too, of course. Your own throne and receiving rooms, and a dressing room…I figured that our space got a little…tight, and you might want your own place to, y'know. Chill. After all, being married to me _does _kind of make you Queen of the World. And being Queen of the World does come with its benefits…I mean, it's not like you're a _peasant _or anything…" _Okay, Kuzco. You're officially yammering now. I mean, yammering_ Kuta-style"Alexandria?".

Still no reply.

Cautiously, Kuzco moved closer. "We tried to kind of decorate it in the style you had back home…Helena helped me with that. Feel free to…scream or faint with gratitude or whatever." Now directly behind her, he shifted his feet slightly uncomfortably and looked up. _Okay, it's her birthday, right? There's something that I would have to say in this situation…what IS that phrase again? I mean…what would Pacha say? Oh yeah! _"Um…Happy birthday." Okay, so he wasn't the smoothest speaker. But he had got his point across. "Alexandria?"

She lowered her head to the sill, her hair pooling over the edge.

Worried now, Kuzco moved closer and lowered his face to the level of the crook of her arm, where her face was buried. "Alexandria?"

"Lord."

"Well, she could _speak._ That was a good sign.

"Good Lord."

"What's the matter?" Kuzco asked. He leaned forward, closer, and she raised her head. Her cheeks looked suspiciously moist, as did her eyes, which she quickly lowered. Her mouth trembled, slightly, and she bit her lower lip. Her face was flushed.

Kuzco's thoughts, in spite of themselves, were racing. Come to think of it, his pulse was racing, too…why on earth would _that _happen? _Oh, man. She hates it. It reminds her too much of home…I've made it worse…I've made her even _more_ homesick. Man, I feel terrible. Just…terrible!_ A pause. Then,_ Hm. Wonder if I can turn this place into a personal entertainment center, now that I have to re-do it and all…_

Alexandria's voice interrupted his mental planning.

"I…" she pressed her hand to her chest, leaning heavily on the windowsill, a comically confused look on her pretty face. "I feel…funny. It's spreading up from my stomach to my chest…it's really, really warm…fuzzy…" she clutched her chest and sank to her knees. "Bubbly, even," she muttered. "Am I having a heart attack?"

Kuzco rolled his eyes, both with relief and annoyance, his heartbeat slowing once she turned her face away. _Whew. That was _so_ weird…_ He should have guessed. "Alexandria. What you feel is…" he leaned forward and pulled her to her feet. "Gratitude. Probably happiness, too."

What, honey?"

Kuzco could no longer repress his sarcasm. Really, sometimes it was _mandatory_. "Feelings? Ever heard of those?"

Her face was blank. "What, honey?"

He rubbed his eyes. "Oh, man." _How am I going to explain this one?…_"You know, like…an emotion? _Normal_ people have them. It makes them cry, laugh…"

"I get it!" snapped Alexandria. "I just…It's never happened to _me _before!" she straightened up. "Must…get…rid…of…it…Helena! I need a drink!" she slapped the windowsill, beginning to lurch towards the door. "Where is that girl…_Helena!_

Kuzco smirked. He couldn't help it. Reaching for her, he pulled her back. "Look, Alexandria," he said, "I wanted to do something nice for you. That's all. You're supposed to feel good about it."

"Really?" She paused. "Well…that _was_ quite kind, honey…what do I say?"

"Most people say thank you."

"Oh. Well…thank you."

Kuzco nodded. The silence that followed was slightly uncomfortable.

"So." Alexandria broke the silence. "These chambers are mine?"

"All yours."

Alexandria walked through the wing, lifting the hem of her nightgown off the floor so it wouldn't drag. Kuzco followed her silently, not knowing what else to say. She walked through the immense dressing room, hung wall-to-floor with gold-plated mirrors engraved with her name, through the large bedroom, through the small banquet room, touching the walls, the draperies, the decorations. Stopping back in her new bedroom, she reached out and touched a marble statue of Zeus with her fingers, carefully. Kuzco slowed his momentum just a second too late and froze just before he bumped into her. What she did next had him shocked for the rest of the night…

She whirled around, threw her arms around him, and hugged him…tight.

"Thank you," she whispered, into his ear.

He stiffened, unused to the contact, then tentatively relaxed, wrapping his arms around her as well. She rested her cheek against the rich brocade of his robe, and for an instant he couldn't breathe, for some reason. Holding her so close felt so strange…

Suddenly she laughed, breaking the moment. She whirled around again, this time out of his grip, and turned, picking up her skirts, racing through her new rooms like a child, laughing all the while. Kuzco remained where he was, startled both by her sudden embrace and her suddenly breaking away from him. _Um…ok_ay…._so I married an insane one._

After a pause, he shrugged and started after her. Why not? Truth to tell…could he imagine her any other way? Not really.

"Happy birthday, Alexandria," he said under his breath, and shook his head.

Maybe the teenage emperor was actually beginning to grow up...

_Or maybe not. _Kuzco took that oppertunity to take a slide across the floor.


	12. Surprises

**Disclaimer:** Disney owns all. I bow to Disney. I am not wor-thy.

**Rating: **G/PG

"Alexandria!"

Kuzco strode through the palace and to his wife's new chambers, throwing the doors open with a flourish. He could see her maids milling about, although she was nowhere to be seen. It had only been a couple days since the empress had moved into her new quarters, and she had already recruited more than half _his_ staff for her own use.

"Over here, honey!"

This came from her bathing-rooms, over to the side. He shouldered his mantle and headed in. "Are you decent?"

"Come in and find out!"

Kuzco rolled his eyes and walked in. Thankfully, Alexandria's deep marble tub was shrouded from view by tall bamboo-and-sandalwood paneled screens. There was a young woman seated on the floor playing a lyre, and a eunuch was seated beside her, reading poetry.

"Alexandria!" Kuzco had to yell to be heard. "You taking a bath?"

"No, I'm trying to drown myself," Alexandria replied, sarcastically. "What else would I do with all this water and soap?"

Kuzco took a deep breath. _Okay, so that _was_ kind of a dumb question…_"Dudes! Dismiss!" Kuzco snapped his fingers impatiently. Her servants obediently scattered. Alexandria, who was still splashing about in the tub, was singing in Greek, slightly off-key.

He winced. "Look, if I wanted my eardrums shattered, I could have asked Kuta a question." He heard a larger splash as Alexandria emerged from the tub, then the rustle of unfolding silk. Moments later, she appeared, wrapped in a thin robe of India silk that clung to her still-wet frame. "Oh honey, it's _you,"_ she said, wrinkling her nose. "I was convinced that horrid smell was coming from the kitchen! My bathwater's still fresh, if you want a dip- and I strongly suggest you take one."

Kuzco managed to stifle an urge to sniff underneath his arms. _Why do I let her get to me? _"It's probably just your liver rotting, _dear," _he said, sweetly.

Alexandria sat down, crossing her long legs. "I do enjoy these little chats we have, but why are you here?"

"What, I can't just visit you?" Kuzco walked over to her bench. "Move over." He sat down and began to make use of the almond oil on her dressing table, combing it through his hair. "This look dry to you?"

"A little. Here, let me help you-" and she began to work the oil through his hair.

"Alexandria," he said, a little weirded out by the contact, although to his surprise- it wasn't at all unpleasant. Her hands were very small, and unexpectedly gentle. "Are you aware that we have a court audience this morning?"

"No."

_Why am I not surprised? _He felt his usual impatience with her returning. "Didn't you see the messenger I sent to you yesterday? Oh, wait…you must have. He came back crying."

"Oh, please!" Alexandria glared at him, wiping her hands on a cloth. She dipped a chamois skin in fragrant powder and began to dust her face and neck. "He was already crying when he got here."

"That's because he knew he had to come and see you!" Kuzco rolled his eyes again. "But that's beside the point. We need to receive the people."

"Whatever for?"

"To hear their complaints, requests…y'know. Yzma used to do it for me, but she sort of tried to take over my kingdom, and murder me in cold blood, so…" he leaned back to avoid being hit by his wife's powder puff. "…the duty falls to me again."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You're the empress!" Kuzco nearly shouted.

She gave him a blank look and reached for a stick of soft kohl.

"Oh, geez." He rubbed his eyes. "Okay…me, Kuzco." He pointed to himself. "Husband. You, Alexandria." He pointed to her. "Wife." He pointed at himself again. "Me, emperor." He pointed at her. "You, empre-"

"I get it!" she slapped her kohl stick back down on the table (her eyes were now lined heavily in black) and reached for a perfume bottle, dousing herself with it. "Honey, why do I have to go? I mean…I wouldn't have the least idea what to do. I mean, it's…_helping _people. Who does that?"

"You, from now on." Aggravated, Kuzco got up. "Come on. The whole kingdom'll be talking if you don't come with me- otherwise, I wouldn't care. But _my _reputation needs to remain _spotless._"

"Honey, your reputation is one _huge_ spot!" after laughing at her own joke and reddening her lips with ochre, she turned back to him. "I'm going over my schedule, honey. Nope…sorry, can't squeeze you in."

Kuzco gritted his teeth. Time to get serious. "Do it," he said, "or I'll have the steamstress re-make all your robes…in a _home_spun blend- and cancel that little dress order you have coming from Persia."

Her face blanched, and she drew back. "Then again…maybe I _can_ squeeze you in. No need to resort to violence, honey." She stood. "Helena!"

Her maid appeared seemingly out of thin air, and they disappeared behind the screen. Alexandria appeared moments later, dressed for a formal audience in dark purple silk, with diamonds in her ears and around her neck. "Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

Kuzco and Alexandria made it to the throne room without further incident. Knowing that there was no way under the sun that she was going to climb all those stairs, he motioned to a guard, who unceremoniously picked her up and ran her up to the top. He dropped her into the new throne that sat to the right of Kuzco's, then bowed and headed back to his post.

Kuzco took his seat and crossed his legs, then looked over at Alexandria. She was tucking her legs beneath her and gingerly arranging the folds of her gown over the arms of the chair. "Honey, it's covered with germs," she complained.

He gave her a sideways look and was about to deliver a scathing reply, but Kuta entered, opening the doors of the throne room and flooding it with light. Outside, a line of people stretched far into the courtyard.

"Ye _gods_," muttered Alexandria.

Kuzco's eyes were just as round, and he barely managed to close his gaping mouth before turning to his advisor. "Kuta?"

"Yes sir?" the little man hurried up to the throne as fast as his girth could allow.

"Where did all these people come from?"

"Well, sire, you have not been present in court for some time, due to your marriage and the…previous troubles you encountered while trying to regain your throne…"

"Good _Lord." _Alexandria's voice broke in. "We'll spend hours listening to the whining riffraff! Just give them what they want and send them home, honey."

Kuta bit his lip. "Madam, that is not the usual procedure. It will destroy your public relations, and…"

"Ignore her," Kuzco ordered. To his annoyance, Alexandria had echoed _exactly _what he had been thinking- but somehow is sounded really…mean, coming from _her. _"Trot in the populace, dude. And tell Kronk to bring us some refreshments…honey cakes and wine for me, rum cakes and hooch for the lady."

She gave him the thumb-ups sign and sat back, propping her feet up on the armrest.

Kuzco shook his head. "Alexandria, do you realize that I was joking?"

"What, honey?"

"Never mind."

The first man to walk in was a short, squat peasant wearing a dirty gray poncho and a short brown tunic. When he saw the monarchs, he fell on his hands and knees, touching his forehead to the base of the thrones. "Your highnesses!" he cried. "Please allow me to congratulate you both on your marriage. Sire, forgive my presumption, but…" he glanced up, then dropped his head. "She is even more beautiful than we have heard."

"Yeah, yeah." If flattery was oil, this guy would have slid halfway down the street by now. "Just state your case and get out of here."

"Oh no, honey, let him continue." Alexandria laid a hand on his arm. Now that she had her rum cakes and a pitcher of freshly-mixed apple martinis by her side, she was in a _much _better mood. "I like him."

"You would." Kuzco shot her a scornful look, then turned back to his subject. "Go ahead, state your beef."

"Well, sire," and the peasant struggled to his feet, "My teenage brother took my llama and cart out for a…joyride the other day. He crashed the cart, and the llama was killed."

"Okay, dumb brother who took the llama out, dumb brother who didn't lock his llama up, dead llama, smashed cart. This concerns me because…?"

"Well, sire, the proper protocol is that I report him to the authorities and press charges, but-"

"Which you _should_ do, as soon as you stop blocking my doorway. Nice meeting you! Buh-bye…NEXT!"

"Wait."

Kuzco and the retreating peasant both stopped…and turned in astonishment.

Alexandria had spoken.

"Honey," she said, sitting up and looking Kuzco in the eye, "aren't you going to ask me what _I _think?"

He cracked up. "Good one, Alexandria." He wiped his eyes…then paused when he saw her expression. "You're serious?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes." Alexandria narrowed her hazel eyes. "I _am _empress, after all- I should have some say."

_The martinis probably haven't kicked in yet. _Kuzco raised an eyebrow. "Err…sure. Go ahead, Alexandria." He sat back. _This ought to be good. I _do _need a laugh…_

"Well," and Alexandria took a sip of her drink, "in _my _country, we usually try to settle family disputes outside of the courts."

"I…I was hoping that would be possible, Madam," the peasant said, timidly. "That is why I chose to bring the case before your Majesties."

She nodded. "Perhaps…we could arrange for your brother to find work in the palace, or in the…the…where is that place where you commoners buy food ?"

"The market, my lady?"

She nodded. "His salary will go towards the payment of your cart, and I guess that the emperor can spare a loan to cover you for now."

The man fell to his knees once more. "Thank you, my lady!"

Alexandria turned to Kuzco and Kuta, who were both standing, slack-jawed. "That okay with you, honey?" she asked him casually. "By the way, the 'drooling idiot' look doesn't work that well for you."

"I…" Kuzco managed to snap his mouth shut, to get it to start working again. "Let it be…as you said." She had come up with the perfect solution.

Kuta immediately began scratching a formal proclamation on palace parchment, and Kuzo stared at his wife as if she'd grown two heads. "Wherever did you learn _that?" _he demanded.

"What, honey?"

"The whole…what you just did! Everything!"

Alexandria shrugged her slender shoulders. "Watching my father. He had audiences every day, and I used to go with him. I remember he had a case like this one."

"I…you…" Kuzco couldn't seem to form a proper sentence, and Kuta had motioned in the next person, so he couldn't query her further. _Who knew _that _about her? _

Intriguing?

Possibly.

Although he'd never admit it.

* * *

"Man, what a day!"

Kuzco stood and stretched. The last subject had come and gone, and their work was done- for the day, anyway. "We're gonna have to find a better way to do this."

"Mm-hm," Alexandria agreed, her eyes downcast. She was playing with the remains of a late lunch that the two of them had shared earlier that afternoon.

"I mean, the sun set _hours _ago!" Kuzco blinked at the dark window, then stood on tiptoe to light another lamp. All the servants in the throne room were gone- they'd been dispatched to see his subjects safely outside the palace gates. "You okay, or are you just brooding over your last martini?"

Alexandria looked up, then stood and shook out her robes. She slowly reached up and pulled the large jeweled pins out of her hair, shaking it loose over her shoulders. "I enjoyed today, honey," she said. "Helping the proletariat is fun! They really are quite clever, if one thinks about it…it's a wonder they don't make more money."

"Yeah, well." Kuzco was inclined to agree. Alexandria had her moments- she'd queried a farmer on what "famine" meant, for example, and asked a widow to define "starvation"- but she'd been a surprising help. Although she wasn't the most sensitive, her knowledge of law and what she had retained from watching her father helped- a lot.

Kuzco dropped back into his throne and stretched his legs. "I am one worn-out king of the world."

Alexandria finished rearranging her robes and dropped down as well- right into his lap.

To say that Kuzco was _startle_d would be an understatement of gargantuan proportions. "Er…Alexandria? In case the martinis have This isn't your throne."

"This is more comfortable." She lifted her legs and tucked them to the side, then lay her head down on his chest and closed her eyes. "Night, honey…" she drifted off.

"Alexandria!" he called her name, but she was fast asleep, and clearly had no plans to move unless he disturbed her.

And…to his surprise…he didn't _want _to disturb her. He was pretty comfortable himself…

Tentatively, he wrapped one arm around her waist and one around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. He could smell the spices that had been in her bath, and he rested his chin on her dark head, inhaling the smell of almond oil- and thinking hard.

"Honey?"

"I thought you were asleep." The sound of his own voice was lazy, languid. He shifted as if to release her, but she shook her head, playing with the fringe at the front of his robes instead.

"Honey," she said, and her voice was unusually soft, stripped of its usual condescending lilt. "Did I really help you?"

"Yeah, you did, Kuzco admitted_ Maybe my advisors _did _know what they were doing when they picked her out_. "I'm surprised you know how to work all that…monarchy stuff. No offense, but you don't seem like the type."

"My father taught me." Her eyes grew distant. "I was the youngest, and I was sort of his pet. He taught me how to make my first cosmopolitan…"

"A skill that's not to be reckoned with," Kuzco said dryly.

"I know!" she agreed, not seeing the irony. She was silent after this, and for another minute the only sound in the room was that of their combined breathing.

Kuzco broke the silence. "He's still in…Greece, right?"

"He's dead."

Such a flat admission took Kuzco totally by surprise, and he sat back and looked into her face. Her expression was unusually thoughtful, and he realized with a pang of… something…how little he knew about the woman he called his wife. _Why don't you get to know her? _Pacha had said…but he was afraid to. The more he learned about her, the more that funny feeling that had been inside him for days was intensifying….

_Guess homesickness wasn't her only problem…_"I'm sorry…to hear that," he mumbled.

"That's why I had to get married." Alexandria continued as if she hadn't heard him. "My oldest sister and my mother reigned together, and my other sister is already married, to a Persian king. I was a liability to the throne, and I was of age, so…"

"So they married you off to me," Kuzco finished.

"Yes." She tucked a lock of dark hair behind one ear. "It was either you or a nobleman who knows my brother-in-law."

"Why not him?"

She tilted her head to its usual haughty angle. "_He_ doesn't drink. It would have never worked out between us."

"I'll bet," Kuzco muttered, trying to collect his thoughts. He felt so strange…

Then it hit him.

For the very first time in his life…he felt really, truly sorry for someone.

"Honey?"

Her voice broke into his thoughts, and he looked up. Alexandria was staring at him intently, her hazel eyes wide. In the dim light of the throne room they looked almost green, and very clear and soft.

"It's okay," she whispered, and leaned forward. "Times are better now, Kuzco."

Kuzco couldn't focus on what she was saying, though. He suddenly realized how close they were…she blinked as if she realized it too, and her lips parted slightly.

It was Kuzco, however, who closed the distance… and kissed her.

Alexandria didn't respond at first, but then she tentatively placed her hands on the sides of his face, kissing him back. When he finally broke the contact, they were both breathing hard. Her face was flushed, and from the heat he felt creeping up his neck, he knew he probably was turning red, too. She looked as shocked as he felt.

_What did I just do…_his fingers dropped down to her back. "Alexandria-" he began. He touched her cheek.

Just then, Kronk threw open the doors of the throne room with a flourish, starling the pair so much that Kuzco actually leapt to his feet, dumping Alexandria on the floor as he did so.

"Dinner's ready, sire!" Kronk announced. He hadn't hadn't noticed a thing. Anya and Kuta stood behind him.

_Their_ jaws were nearly scraping the ground.

* * *

Kuta was running as fast as his short legs and size-six sandaled feet could carry him.

"Got to get to her, got to get to her…" he muttered. His mind was full of what he had just witnessed.

Alexandria…and Kuzco. In what could be called a…compromising position.

Kuta reached the outskirts of the kingdom in minutes, thanks to the llama cart he had hired. Now, he left the llama tied up to a tree, a basin of fresh water and a pile of sweet grass to the side, to keep him quiet. Kuta then wrapped a hood and cloak around himself to cover his place dress, and headed off into the woods, careful not to make a sound. He has bread, cheese, and a flask of good wine under the cloak as well; his journey would take most of the night. He usually stopped to rest, but he wouldn't- not this time.

Kuzco was distracted by his new wife, just as he had planned.

Meeting Yzma in the palace that night had been a mere stroke of luck; he'd had no idea that she was even alive, talk less of back in human form; and she'd had no idea that _he _was the actual mastermind behind the wedding of Alexandria and Kuzco. He'd done her the favor of sneaking her out of the palace that night, and she'd done _him _the favor of giving him access to an army she'd created...out of palace guard dogs. God, but that woman was as scary as she was devious.

Kuta had been planning it for _years, _ever since he'd been elevated to the position of Kuzco's right-hand advisor. He hated the brat. He hated his whining, his selfishness, his penchant for throwing palace workers out the window if they displeased him…why should that…that te_enag_er hold the throne when there were so many who had worked just as hard?

His orginal plan had been to distract Kuzco with a woman, then proceed to lead the peasants in an uprising against the emperor. However, thanks to Kuzco's friendship with that meddling musclehead Pacha, stories of Kuzco's actual kindness and good-heartedness were circulating all over the kingdom. The peasants no longer saw him as an enemy- and indeed, Kuzco had been more accepting and caring of his subjects...dealing withhis spoiled bride had made much less self centered.He was growing up, which was Kuta's worst nightmare.His plan was backfiring. A prepubescent ruler was easy to overthrow; a mature one was much, much harder to defeat.

Running into Yzma had been a pure stroke of luck, proverbialicing on the cake. They needed each other to succeed, really. Heneeded an army; sheneeded a man on the inside.

The time was right…to strike.

He had to tell Yzma…and by this time in a week or so, _they _would be the reigning monarchs.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

Dinner that evening, to say in the least, was an uncomfortable event.

All the servants had retired for the evening, except Kronk…and he was in the kitchen. Alexandria and Kuzco were dining together. Alone.

Kuzco kept his eyes on his plate, and when he looked at his wife, her eyes dropped, as if _she _were embarrassed. It felt so strange- the air between them was charged, somehow- and not only because of what had just taken place. It had been building up for weeks.

Alexandria seemed unusually subdued, eating little, and talking even less. Occasionally, Kuzco saw her bring shaky fingers to her lips in a gesture that he knew had nothing to do with the food. She had even refused her usual drinks, much to everyone's astonishment. Kuzco didn't pay as much attention as he should have, however- he was too busy arguing with himself.

_You _kissed _her, dude. Voluntarily. Plus, you redid like, an entire side of your palace for her. By every human standard, that shows you like her. A lot. _Clearly, his inner conscience was in a sarcastic mood.

_But…what was I thinking? _Kuzco rubbed his forehead.

_What every hormonal guy thinks when he has a hot chick on his lap, what else? Besides, you felt sorry for her, and you still do. Admit it. _

Kuzco fought back. _She can take perfectly good care of herself! She's done it up till now…_

_Yeah, but that was before you two started getting along…plus, you _know _how you feel about her now. What are you, scared to admit it? You punk. You wuss... _

Kuzco was getting angry now. _I am King of the World, 'kay? I'm not afraid of anything…except llamas. And panthers. And gravy-drenched pillbug specials…_

_You wimp.__ You chump. You sump…_

He blinked.

_Wait. _Why _am I having a conversation with myself? _

Kuzco gave himself a shake and began to cut his meat defiantly. The pork they dined on that evening, according to Kronk, had been specially raised on acorns and sweet onions, and was the best meat available. He was going to _enjoy _this meal. So what of Alexandria didn't want to talk? So _what_ if he had just given his might-not-be-so-spoiled-after-all wife a kiss that had…effectively, rocked his world? So what if she had kissed him back? So what, if he knew perfectly well that if Kronk _hadn't_ interrupted…God knows what they would have been doing now?

"Kuzco?"

Alexandria's soft tone startled him so much that he dropped his knife, then nearly choked on his meat. "Yeah?"

"I'm tired." Her voice hadn't risen above a half-whisper. "I want to…I'm going to my rooms, now."

He stood up. "Let me walk you." He was half-afraid that she would turn him down, but she nodded, still staring down at the floor.

He didn't offer her his arm as he usually did, and Alexandria didn't comment on it- was that a bad sign? Still, it _was _Alexandria. She probably didn't notice things like that.

Kuzco managed to start a conversation of sorts, chattering mindlessly until they reached her chamber doors, then stopped. And awkward silence descended, and didn't know whether he should break it, or not. He wanted to mention what had happened before, but…

"Alexandria?" he finally asked. Her back was turned to him, but she hadn't made a move to enter her rooms.

"Yes?" she still didn't turn around.

"Look, I'm…sorry for everything that happened to you," he said. "I mean…and then coming here…if I'd known…" he paused to collect his words. "I mean, your marriage should have been to someone…special."

He could feel Alexandria's hesitance before she answered him. Even so, her voice was so low that he could barely hear her. "Don't worry, honey," she said quietly, and turned around. "It was."

Kuzco's heart began to pound, strangely. _Catch me ever eating those spinach puffs of Kronks again…oh, who am I kidding? I've fallen for her. I've fallen _hard. _This cannot be good…this is all Pacha's fault! I was the coolest bachelor around until he ran that guilt trip on me…oh, just _wait _till I get his hands on that village of his…_

He stopped his train of thought, for Alexandria had suddenly turned around. Although she still looked somewhat sad, a half-apprehensive, half-eager look had entered her eyes, and her face had regained a trace of its usual mischief. Her full lips curved up into a smirk.

"So, honey," she said, snippily. "Are you coming in or not?"

Update soon! Review!


	13. Oh, crap, here we go again

**Disclaimer: **Previous ones apply. Lovely

**Rating:** Same

Nothing says "I'm married," like having a pair of cold feet hit you in the side first thing in the morning.

And, by now? Kuzco was pretty used to it- Alexandria's feet were very cold.

Kuzco moved slightly, then tried to sit up. Alexandria was curled up beside him, her head resting on his chest, her eyes closed tightly. There was a gentle half-smile on her face, and despite the feet, the rest of her felt warm, encased in silk. He sighed and looked up, then touched her cheek with a finger. There were matters of state to attend to, and the sun was high in the sky. He_ had _to get up, comfortable as he was right now…

He rolled over on his side and surveyed the other half of the bed. Alexandria was now completely invisible, except for a tuft of dark hair sticking out from underneath their heavy damask blankets. "Alexandria?"

She didn't move.

Grumbling, Kuzo reached for the robe on the floor to his right, picking it up and shaking it out before yanking it on and vacating the warmth of their bed. Much as he wanted to sleep in, he had his duties. He glanced over at his sleeping wife. Sharing sleeping space with someone was definitely still weird…it had its benefits, though.

Kuzco squinted, inhaling the heady scent of the Egyptian incense that Alexandria always kept burning in her chambers. His own mega-awesome "bach pad," was all but deserted now- and he was actually considering closing it up, for obvious reasons…he glanced at the slender shape still under the blankets, and swallowed, in spite of himself. The tender feeling he had when he regarded her now was still so new to him…

He shook off the thought. _Way to be a sap, Kuzco. _"Alexandria!" he called. "Up and at 'em."

Nothing. Not even a groan.

Rolling his eyes, Kuzco approached the bed, pulling his robe close around him. In their past few weeks of marriage, he had learned much about his wife- including the fact that she was harder to wake than a corpse. Once, he'd actually brought a llama into the room and made it bray loudly. _That _had done the trick, much to his amusement- but he'd found a little…surprise from the llama underneath his throne the next day, courtesy of Alexandra.

Yeah, married life was _swell._

He turned and looked for the pull cord used to signal the servants. _Maybe __Helena__ will have more luck with her._

"Honey?"

Hearing Alexandria's familiar high, slightly nasal tone, Kuzco turned in surprise. She was sitting up in bed, her thick, dark hair tumbling down on her bare shoulders. Her eyes looked hooded but alert.

"You're awake," Kuzco said in amazement.

She made a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a sigh.

"You're getting better at this, you know," Kuzco said, deadpan, leaning on the bedpost. "I mean, getting up in the morning and all…what a weird concept."

"Oh, shut up, honey." She pulled her blankets up to cover her bare skin, then squinted into the dim early-morning light of the room. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get a sundial," Kuzco quipped. "And we have an audience with-"

"The people. I know." Alexandria rolled her eyes. "Whining pheasants again, probably. Honestly, Kuzco-"

"Good_bye_, Alexandria…I'm ringing Helena on the way out." Now that Kuzco was in his wife's chambers more often than not, the servants only came when called. "I'm going to go and hustle up some grub."

Alexandria rolled out of bed, wrapping the coverlet modestly around her before standing up. "Honey?"

"_Yes_?"

"Give me a kiss before you go."

_Oh. _He grinned, a little crookedly, and complied.

After a moment, she pushed him away impatiently. "Honey, I said _kiss, _not touch- your hands aren't clean!"

"Alexandria?"

"Yes, honey?"

"I washed them, okay? Shut up and come here."

"All right."

* * *

Somewhere, elsewhere, a woman was preening before a mirror in the woods (not that it was doing any good.) She walked sedately in front of it, throwing an imaginary train over her shoulder, bowing and waving to an imaginary populace. "I will soon rule…" 

She was interrupted by the arrival of a short, fat little manve. She glared at him. "Can't you knock?"

He stared at her. "This is the w_ood_s, Lady Yzma."

She took in her breath with a hiss. _I won't be here for long…_"is everything prepared?" she asked, snippily. "I never really had faith in you, Kuta. You always seemed far too loyal to Kuzco."

The wrinkles in Kuta's face settled into a map of creases when he smiled. "And you underestimated me, you old hag," he said.

Her eyebrows went up, but he continued to speak, ignoring her gaping mouth. "The army is ready," he said coolly, "and disguised ad peasants who want to see the Emperor. When the doors open for his public audience, they will storm the castle, killing both him and his bride, then the staff. We will lead the army from the rear, and take the thrones as soon as possible."

Yzma just eyed him for a moment. "And to think, I put up with that imbecile Kronk when you were in the palace the entire time," she muttered reflexively.

Kuta smiled. "Genius is always easily hidden- especially when your Emperor's a fool." He paused. "Ready your army, Yzma. Today is our day." _My day. All I need is your army, foolish woman. For when I win...I will finish you as well._

* * *

After a very late breakfast, Kuzco and Alexandria headed for their throne room.. Kuzco was thinking hard, for once. He wanted to plan something for Alexandria and himself- a trip away, maybe. They really had never taken a formal royal wedding trip…and now he wanted one. 

Alexandria was wary when she first heard the idea. "Honey…we have to go outside to do that."

"Um, yeah."

"_Outsid_e, honey. There are insects outside. And the sun. And fresh air." She studied her nails, then took out her ever-present file and began to buff them. "No can do."

_Unbelievable._ Kuzco was about to open his mouth when Kuta appeared, looking his usual self- a little soft, a little eager to please. "Your Highnesses!" he said, startling both of them. He was smiling widely. "I cannot tell you how it thrills me to see the two of you in such a felicitous state of marriage, and-"

"Honey, tone down the smile. Those teeth…" shaking her head, Alexandria patted his arm and moved forward to where the servants would lift her up. "I can recommend somebody."

Kuta toned down his smile a fraction and turned to Kuzco. "Long live the Emperor," he fawned.

"Thanks, Kuta," Kuzco said, nodding. The old servant had been in his stead so long…

Alexandria had the same thought, apparently. "He's nice, for a member of the lower class," she said, nodding. "You should reward him somewhat. Give him weekends off or something."

"Alexandria?"

"Yes, honey?"

"All servants already have a couple days to themselves a week."

Alexandria's mouth dropped open, and Kuzco patted her on the back and shook his head. "It'll be okay." He headed up to his throne.

Alexandria followed him to her own seat, still gaping in disbelief as she sat down and crossed her legs. "Honey, no wonder nothing gets done around here!"

Kuzco waved Kuta over. "Are we ready to begin?"

"Yes, your highness." Kuta bowed his way out of the throne room, and Kuzco turned to Alexandria. "Alexandria. Want to go over the throne room ground rules with me?"

Alexandria rolled her eyes. "No."

"Alexandria…"

"Oh, all right." Alexandria scowled and folded her slender legs underneath her in one graceful movement.

"Rule number one."

Looking bored, Alexandria signaled the servant standing behind them, who poured her a glass of wine. "No laughing when people say their problems," she answered, mimicking his serious tone. "Chances are, they aren't lying, joking _or_ telling you a funny story."

"Very good. Second?"

"Do not laugh at ugly peasants."

"Third?

"Do not throw tomatoes at ugly peasants."

"Fourth."

"Do not make fun of Kuta. It's not his fault he's fat, or short, or a servant." (Kuta's face had twitched slightly at this one.)

"Fifth?"

"Servants are _almost_ people, too."

"Sixth and final."

"Vodka does not a ruler make."

Kuzco nodded, approvingly. "I think she's got it," he confided to a server.

The man nodded. "She's got it!"

"By God, she's got it!"

As Kuzco and the server exchanged high-fives, Alexandria rolled her eyes and swung her feet up. "Here comes that short, fat servant of yours that I'm not allowed to laugh at anymore, honey."

Kuzco sat up. Sure enough, Kuta was bowing his way into the throne room. "My right-hand man," he greeted him.

Kuta smiled, barely hiding the predatory flash in his eyes. "My lord!"

"Trot in the populace."

He nodded and gestured towards the door, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief soaked in scented water. _My time has come…_

After struggling with his wife over their shared bowl of grapes, Kuzco glanced at him. _He's sweating like a stuck pig…ye gods, you'd think he was used to this by now. _

The first man walked in, looking apprehensive- and walking very clumsily, since he had a short spear concealed under his robe. He just stood there for a moment, staring at the two rulers.

Kuzco waited for a beat before raising n eyebrow- and a glance at Alexandria showed that she was doing the same thing. "Can I…help you?"

He glanced down. "Sire, I…"

"Much as I would like to see you stand in front of me and stutter," Kuzco said, "I have work to do- and I assume you do, too."

The man leaned over as if to bow, and Kuzco chose that instant to lean over and select a grape from his bowl of fruit. In an instant, he felt something whistle by his ear- and looked up. The spear was sticking out of the back of the throne, where his head had been a second ago. He blinked, then looked at the "peasant," who gave him a sheepish grin. Alexandria was still working on her nails.

"My Lord the Emperor-" he began.

Just then, Kuta burst in through the doors. "At_tack_!"

Before Kuzco even had a chance to fathom what was going on, the air was suddenly full of flying arrows and spears. Kuzco ducked behind his throne. "Alexandria!" he yelled.

_Oh, crap. Not again.  
_

Then, suddenly, she was beside him, under his arm, very quiet. "I'm here, honey- what's going on?"

"I don't know…" Kuzco heard voices and knew that they were closing in. "We're going to have to jump. Jump down and run. We're under attack."

"Excuse me?"

"Jump!"

Alexandria jumped.

Kuzco started, then dove after her, hugging the pillars that supported his throne and sliding down. Alexandria was already on the ground, staring at her side. Kuzco's throat closed when he saw an…arrow shaft. He swallowed. _Was she hit? "_Alexandria-"

Wordlessly, she pulled it out and stared at it. The arrow had penetrated the thin muslin of her gown, but somehow missed her. When she spoke, her voice was shaky. "Honey-"

"Alexandria…" Kuzco's voice was trembling as well, and he struggled to steady it. He tilted his head, listening to the battle around him- his guards were intervening, now. "Alexandria, there isn't much time. We have to get out of here." He felt a cool, alien-like presence taking over his body, talking calmly, giving orders as if he was under attack in his own palace every day. _Well actually…it sort of does happen a lot. _"I know a way out-" they leaned against the wall as another slew of arrows went by- "but you have to trust me…okay?"

She nodded; her answer was to slide her hand in his.

Kuzco glanced around the corner, heart pounding. _I wonder what…and was that Kuta I saw, leading the pack? What is it with me and bad advisors, anyway? _He briefly wondered about Kronk and Anya, but shook off the thought. _They're on their own- that is, if they weren't in on this. It's not like Kronk can't be easily persuaded. _He took a deep breath. _It's on you now, Kuzco. You can do this. _

He glanced out. _Now's as good a time as any._Flying arrows, flying spears (was that a piece of fruit?) and yup- more flying arrows"Let's go!"

"Honey?"

"What?" Kuzco answered, a little irritably. "I'm kind of trying to save our lives here, Alexandria."

"We could use the trapdoor under your throne."

_"What _trapdoor?"

"The cleverly contrived one that the author put merely for this purpose underneath your throne."

"Alexandria," Kuzco said, and his voice was patient. "I have lived in this palace since birth. I know every square inch of this throne room. I spy on my guards in this place. And may I assure you-"

he ducked an arrow- "that there is no trap door under my throne, nor anywhere else in this. And furthermore, this is really _not _the time for your hallucinat-"

"Bye, honey!" He saw Alexandria's head suddenly disappear…through the floor. Through an open…trap door.

"How did you-!" he sputtered. "Who- it's impossible-"

Finally, he shrugged. _Whatever.__ It works. _He leaped through the open door after her, closing his eyes tight.


	14. Where are we running?

**Author's Note:** By God, haven't updated this for...years, really. Logged into my account today and thought it might be fun to finish it off, along with my other stories, since I'm not as busy as I used to be...well, either way, enjoy! :-)

**Rating**: Oh so PG. For now.

It took Kuzco longer than he'd thought to navigate through the underbelly of his castle-- he hadn't been there since he was a child, really. He mentioned this fact to Alexandria in a burst of nostalgia-- one that she scorned, rather predictably.

"Good God, honey-- we're running for our lives, and you're trying to kill me with boredom?"

Kuzco didn't even bother retorting to that one. Instead, he looked at Alexandra rather sharply. Her voice was somewhat weak, a mere shadow of what it usually was. The usual contempt for his feelings was there, but she sounded positively half-hearted now.

"You okay?" he asked, slowing his steps, suddenly aware that he was moving much faster than she was.

"Fine," she said, not quite meeting his eyes. There was no anger in her tone, or even irritation, but the slump in her shoulders made her look exhausted- dead to the world, almost.

Impulsively, Kuzco reached out and touched her hand. Her skin had a chalky hue, and was like ice. In a gesture that was almost protective, he reached out and placed a hand on her lower back. "Want to stop for a few?" he ventured.

She shook her head emphatically, straightening her shoulders. Strands of hair had escaped from her usually lofty ponytail, and now framed her face. "I'm just...really tired," she said softly, resting her small dark head on his shoulder, briefly, as if trying to share his warmth. "It'll pass, though." She bit her lip almost determinedly; then she stood. "Let's go."

Kuzco opened his mouth to protest, but a sudden clang of metal right above their heads made him jump- then wince. "They're close," he muttered.

"No. Really?" Alexandria rolled her eyes at him in her old manner. "Let's GO."

Alexandria--" Kuzco paused, and she stopped in her tracks, eyeing him.

"What?"

He hesitated, raking his hands through his hair. "Let me carry you."

Alexandria looked surprised.

"You look..." Kuzco was still trying to guess what was wrong with her-- had she been that badly frightened, really? But then again, Alexandria wasn't ever frightened by _anything, _or nothing he'd ever seen. It just wasn't in her nature. "Tired. It'll probably be faster for both of us if--"

"Oh, honey, at least fake having a brain!" Alexandria's voice was sharp, and the effort it took her to speak actually made her lean against one of the damp lime-stone walls for a moment, catching her breath. "You can barely haul yourself around, and even if you could manage, your bones would poke me to bits…"

Kuzco took offense at that, drawing himself up to full height. "I'm not nearly as skinny as I used to be!"

"Yeah, honey. We can compare you to a string-bean now instead of a piece of string…" she inhaled as if to laugh, but suddenly sucked down the breath and cursed softly, instead. Kuzco lifted an eyebrow. Alexandria was many things, but she was too well-bred to throw out strong language without some provocation.

"You're obviously not okay," he said, anxiety leaking out of his tone in spite of himself. "What hurts?"

Instead of responding with sarcasm, his wife looked at him, large eyes shimmering with uncertainty—and what could be tears, if it was anyone but Alexandria. "I dunno," she replied; and her voice was unsteady. "I'm just…achy."

_Achy. _Okay. That, combined with her appearance…he had one sick woman on his hands. "Okay. Um. Well." After a second of thinking, he decided to shift back to the mantra he'd been using since he'd "improved" as a ruler. _What would Pacha do in this case?_

"What'd you eat?" he began, and if his voice was rather wooden from lack of practice, at least it was sincere. _Okay. Note of concern in there, too…that sounds about right…._

Alexandria let out a gusty sigh. "Just breakfast, same as you. But my stomach doesn't hurt….everything does…I'm just…." She was blinking hard, now. "I want to go home," she whispered, and her voice was strangled.

"But you hate it there! You told me that!" Forget tenderness. Kuzco was getting frustrated now-- and besides, the clanging above their head was growing louder. It would be only a matter of minutes before Yzma found them-- and then, they'd be toast. Literally, if she got her hands on those potions of hers...

"No one shoots at me there!" Alexandria returned, breaking into his throughts. "Just you!"

"That's because you're not important enough!"

Alexandria stared at him for a full moment, mouth askance, eyes wide, and her face was pinched. "I--" she began—but her voice was weak, and it was clear she had no real comeback, as she normally would. "You--" she stopped, balling her small hands into fists.

Then, she turned away from him and burst into tears. Kuzco, understandably, was horrified. A girl crying! For that matter, Alexandria crying….!

_By God, it's like…Satan crying. Just doesn't happen. Not in this world, anyway._

Compared to Satan or not, her tears were far from done. In that same moment, she was clinging to him, still crying her eyes out. In her accent, which was even thicker through tears, he could make out the words _cold _and _scared _and _out_…he dropped his fingers to her back, rubbing it as soothingly as he could manage while stealing looks above to make sure they hadn't been discovered. "Alexandria…can't understand you when you're channeling a waterfall, babes…"

His intent was to make her laugh—or heck, at least insult him--but a fresh wave of tears came, instead. "Honey…would you let _up _for once?" she shrieked, rubbing her cheeks with her fists and trying to push away from him. She attempted to stomp her foot—but it came down in the limestone pool they'd been standing in and sprayed them both with water, quite impressively. Frustrated, she picked up her sodden skirts and began to run. Back _towards _the palace, that was.

Kuzco took off after her and nearly slipped, managing to right himself in time. "Alexandria—I know you're not _that _drunk, it's too early in the day—are you crazy?! They'll kill you if you go back!"

"And they'll probably kill us the second we exit this tunnel, so we're dead anywayl." Her voice was high, and still somewhat weak. "I don't _feel _good, Kuzco. At least I'll be warm and dry when they get me." She paused, dropping her skirts with a soft, pulpy, sucking sound. "Or, when they get you. They might actually spare my life. I'm of no threat to them." As if buoyed by that thought, she began moving forward again.

Kuzco actually growled in frustration. Could _anyone _be worse than this--? "Alexandria," he said loudly, trying to summon all the authority of a monarch into his tone. She ignored him and kept moving.

"Alexandria." _Okay, a little anger in the tone, now_. "Woman, I command you to s_top_!"

Still nothing.

"_Alexandria!" _What…was she moving _faster, _now? Giving up every sense of dignity, Kuzco hiked up his own robes and followed after her, splashing through the little underground puddles and pools. Even if they were seen, he doubted they'd be recognized, now-- they looked downright filthy. Peasant-status filthy. Which was a good thing, in this case. "Alexandria!" he caught up to her, grabbed her wrist. "For once, would you just listen to reason?"

"No!"

"For the sake of all the gods--!" he had her well in his grip, now—she couldn't get away, and he pulled her to him, tightly. "You're not going anywhere, even if I have to carry you out of this place myself!" They were struggling, now; he suspected it was half-hearted on her part, for it certainly was on his. "Alexandria-- please." He managed to choke out the unfamiliar word.

"For Pete's sake…." She twisted deftly, but only found herself blocked by her husband's chest. Frustrated, she beat at it with her fists-- he really _had _filled out, she supposed. "Why won't you let me go? You don't _ow_n me, Kuzco!"

"Technically…." Kuzco opened his mouth, then closed it; this probably wasn't the best time to regale his wife with an explanation of Kuzcotopian marriage law. "Doesn't matter," he said instead. "You're not going anywhere!"

"I am…I am!" Alexandria shrieked back—and leveled his foot with one well-timed stomp.

"Ouch…!" Kuzco grabbed his foot, then pulled off the sandal that was on it and hurled it in her general direction. It didn't hit her, but he was too mad to be secretly relieved. "For God's sake, would you stop being so stubborn?" he hollered. Curiously, her bratty behavior reminded him of someone…who? Well, he'd figure it out later. "They've taken everything from me….I'm not going to let them take you, too!"

That was the loudest any of them had spoken, and Kuzco's voice bounced off the walls of the cave, reverberating around the space. In response, Alexandria had actually frozen where she stood, apparently shocked-- and Kuzco did as well, staring at her.

"I--" she began, and it was as if she came back to herself. Her voice was hoarse, and even softer than it had been before they'd entered the cave. "Honey, I--"

Kuzco turned his back, beginning to walk ahead, not saying a word to her. His face was burning, although he couldn't say why…or, heck. Maybe he could and just wouldn't. Whatever….

"Honey--"

"Whatever, Alexandria," he said, somewhat tiredly.

"No, honey, I mean--" there was a clatter and a splash, and Alexandria was there, next to him, tucking his sandal in his hand—and looking rather shame-faced, too. She bit her lip, looked at her feet, shifted them a goodish bit—then she stood on her toes, kissed him on the lips. Her face was tearstained and she was still trembling, but that half-crazed look had left her expression.

"I'm sorry," she said as soon as she'd pulled away, so quietly he had to bend to hear her; and even then, she kept her eyes fixed on her feet.

He cleared his throat. "Well. You should be."

Alexandria took this rather meekly. After a moment, "--that was nice, what you said."

"Alexandria—" he began warningly, feeling his face heat up again. He was embarassed for some reason, though he couldn't own why.

"I know, I know." A moment, and she took a deep breath, slipping her hand in his. "Let's go."

"Feeling up to it?" she was still terribly pale, and shaky. He rubbed her hand automatically; the skin was even colder now.

"I have to." He felt her straighten up. "I'll rest when we're….out."

He nodded grimly—and pulled her close to his side, trying to share what little warmth he had. She tucked her small hands into his tunic, close to his skin; then, the royal couple set off. In unison, for once.

As they stumbled along, hearing clashing, cries and other sounds of war above their heads, they were silent. But after a while—

"Kuzco?"

"Yes, Alexandria?"

"How much longer, honey?"

He sighed. "I don't know."


End file.
